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Hr
NAVEN
N A V E N
A Survey of the Problems suggested
by a Composite Picture of the Culture of a
New Guinea Tribe drawn from
Three Points of View
BY
GREGORY BATESON
SECOND EDITION
STANFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
STANFORD, CALIFORNIA
1958
STANFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
Stanford, California
London: oxford university press
First edition fublished 1936 -
Second edition fublished 1958
©1958 by the Board of Trustees of the
Leland Stanford Junior University
All rights reserved
Library of Cofigress Catalog Card IS umber: ^8-8 j 20
Printed in the United States of America
'/l^
To
DR A. C. HADDON, F.R.S.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
IN this edition, the body of the book has been left un-
changed. In it, a hne of theoretical thought is pursued
as far as was possible in 1936. But problems similar to
those which I posed and left unsolved have since been partly
solved by cybernetics and communications theory. I have
therefore added to the book a second epilogue, in which the
theoretical positions of the book are discussed in the light of
modern developments.
What has happened has been the growth of a new way of
thinking about organization and disorganization. Today, data
from a New Guinea tribe and the superficially very different
data of psychiatry can be approached in terms of a single epis-
temology— a single body of questions.
We now have the beginnings of a general theory of process
and change, adaptation and pathology; and, in terms of the
general theory, we have to reexamine all that we thought we
knew about organisms, societies, famihes, personal relation-
ships, ecological systems, servo-mechanisms, and the like.
GREGORY BATESON
Palo Alto, California
January 1958
FOREWORD
THE anthropologist on his travels incurs many debts.
He is indebted to those who have helped him financially,
he is indebted to the intellects of other anthropologists,
and he is indebted to a great number of people who help him
both materially and by their friendship in the countries to
which he goes. For my first expedition^ I have already ex-
pressed my indebtedness to those who helped me, and for
my second expedition the list is an even longer one.
For the financing of the expedition I am indebted to the
Percy Sladen Memorial Fund, to the Royal Society Govern-
ment Grants Committee, and to St John's College, Cambridge,
of which body I was a research Fellow, an extraordinary
degree of freedom being permitted me by the Council.
Intellectually, I have to thank first and foremost my
teachers, Dr A. C. Haddon, Professor A. R. Radcliflfe-Brown,
and Professor Malinowski. Dr Haddon first made me an
anthropologist, telling me in a railway train between Cam-
bridge and King's Lynn that he would train me and send me
to New Guinea. Later his training was supplemented by
Professors Radcliff'e-Brown and Malinowski, and to all of these
I owe much. In this Foreword, I wish to stress my admira-
tion for Professor Malinowski's work. In the body of the
book I have from time to time been critical of his views and
theoretical approach. But, of course, I recognise the im-
portance of his contribution to anthropology, and though
I may think it time for us to modify our theoretical approach,
the new theoretical categories which I advocate are largely
built upon ideas implicit in his work.
For their criticism and for conversations which I have had
with them, I wish to thank a number of people who have
read parts of the manuscript of this book — Professor Rad-
cliffe-Brown, Professor F. C. Bartlett, Dr J. T. MacCurdy,
Dr Ruth Benedict, Dr E. J. Lindgren, Mr John Layard and
Mr C. H. Waddington.
^ Oceania, 1932, vol. 11, nos. 3 and 4.
X Foreword
Of those who helped me in New Guinea, I am most
indebted to Dr Margaret Mead and Dr R. F. Fortune, whom
I met on the Sepik River. At a time when I was hopelessly
sick of field work, I had the good fortune to meet these
workers who set me a new and higher standard of work in
the field. In conversations with them my approach to anthro-
pological problems had its origin.
While we were all three of us working on the Sepik River,
there arrived from America a part of the manuscript of
Dr Benedict's Patterns of Culture, and this event influenced
my thinking very profoundly. For practical help I have to
thank first and foremost the Government of the mandated
territory of New Guinea, especially the Government anthro-
pologist, Mr E. W. P. Chinnery, Mr E. D. Robinson, the
District Officer of the Sepik district, and Patrol Officers
Keogh, Beckett, Thomas and Bloxham. Opposition of
Government officials to intrusive anthropologists would be
understandable, but I have not experienced it. In every
contact which I had with these officials they were my friends,
and often they were my hosts.
As a result of my journey to New Guinea I number many
friends among its population: Mr and Mrs Mackenzie of
the Lady Betty, Mr and Mrs E. J. Wauchope, Messrs William
and Roy McGregor, Bob Overall, Bill Mason, Gibson and
Eichorn. Last but not least I have to thank my native in-
formants who were my friends, although I appeared to them
ridiculous : Mali-kindjin,Tshamelwan,Tshava, Mbana, Kaing-
genwan, Kambwankelabi, and my cook-boy, Momwaishi.
GREGORY BATESON
St John's College, Cambridge
December 1935
TABLE OF CONTENTS
This Table is provided to help those who may be interested in dis-
secting the arguments contained in this book. Every heading in the
book is listed in the Table, and, in addition, a number of finer sub-
divisions, not specially marked in the text, are here given the dignity of
headings.
Preface to the Second Edition vii
Foreword ix-x
Chap. I. METHODS OF PRESENTATION 1-5
Artistic and scientific techniques contrasted; functional analysis;
the importance of ethos ; synchronic study of culture ; sketch of the
latmul people.
Chap. II. THE NAVEN CEREMONIES 6-22
Occasions on which Naven are performed 6
(i) Major achievements of laua; (2) first accomplishment of minor
acts; (3) acts characteristic of laua; (4) boasting in presence oi wau;
(5) changes in lauas social status; naven for girls.
Materials upon which the Description is based 10
Small naven ; the five naven witnessed by the writer ; native descrip-
tions of naven.
Description of the Ceremonies 12
Two waus in Palimbai naven; tcaus called "mothers"; their trans-
vestite costume; their buffoonery; they search for laua; grotesque
obscenities; laua gives valuables to wau; wau rubs buttocks on
laua's leg; classificatory spreading of naven; naven in Mindimbit for
children who had made sago; transvestite women; relatives con-
cerned; their costume contrasted with that of wau; costumes of
mother and mother's brother's wife; special kinship terms for
transvestite women ; women beating men ; women enter ceremonial
house; women's dance; naven for girl who had caught fish; wau
carrying laua ; laua on belly of wau ; mother's brother's wife (mbora)
dances ; presentations of pigs ; return presents of valuables ; naven
for homicide; mbora snatches feather ornament from iau; mbora
copulates with wau ; laua spears the fish-trap and steps across all the
women ; summary of the naven behaviour of the various relatives.
xii Contents
Chap. III. THE CONCEPTS OF STRUCTURE AND
FUNCTION 23-34
Structure 23
Formulations as summaries of many details of cultural behaviour;
"tradition" equated with Structure; definition of Cultural Pre-
mises ; definition of Cultural Structure ; Social Structure.
Function 26
Strict and popular uses of the term; "useful" functions; institu-
tions; classification of "functions" is a necessary preliminary to
definition of institutions ; previous classifications ; Radcliffe-Brown's
system ; the position of economics ; definitions of categories used by
the writer; considerations leading to subdivision of "pragmatic
function"; impossibility of guessing at affective functions until the
ethos of the culture is kiiown ; the analogy between ethos and eidos ;
relation between these concepts and "Configuration"; standardisa-
tion of individuals by culture; the irrelevance of psychology to
sociology.
Chap. IV. CULTURAL PREMISES RELEVANT TO
THE WAU-LAUA RELATIONSHIP 35-53
Identification 35
Discrimination between Wau and Father 36
Story of children who are ashamed of father and mother who
behave like zvau and mbora ; esoteric knowledge given to son but
sold to laua; "my laua will help my son"; wau may help laua in
first killing, but father must not do this ; wau and laua identified in
achievements ; father and son identified in economics.
Identification between Father and Son 38
Evidence from terminology; double terms for groups of kin; the
term, wau, sometimes applied to mother's brother's son ; avoidances
between father and son; promotion of son into father's initiatory
grade ; intimacy between father and son is shocking ; mutual respect.
The Child's Relationship to the Maternal Clan 42
Bones regarded as a product of semen, but flesh and blood derived
from menstrual blood ; names given to child by paternal and
maternal clans; -awan names; aspects of child's personality repre-
sented by these names ; fate of names after death ; the laua identified
with the ancestors of the maternal clan; laua addressed as "father
and father's father"; laua addressed as totem of maternal clan; laua
dances in masks representing maternal ancestors; laua ornaments
himself with totemic plants of maternal clan ; laua eats the sacrifices
to his maternal ancestors ; laua eats fowl presented by trespasser ;
laua eats maternal ancestors; pwivu ritual; mintshanggu mortuary
ceremony ; part played by paternal and maternal clans.
Contents xiii
Chap. IV. Cultural Premises etc. (cont.)
Summary of the First Three Premises 48
The child is identified with the father but competes with him in
achievement; the child is the achievement of the mother and his
achievements are her achievements ; achievements of man and woman
stressed in mortuary ceremonial; myth of naven celebrated for a
man on occasion of the birth of his child ; the tragic consequences ;
procedure at first kill explained ; achievements equated with ancestors.
Identification between Brother and Sister 49
Evidence from the naming system ; ceremonial behaviour expressing
this identification ; the passing of the right to names from sister to
brother ; brother cutting sister's hair, presenting a shell valuable and
claiming the names ; position of woman who is solitary surviver of
clan ; her bride price greater because all the names are vested in her.
Identification of Wife and Husband 52
Evidence from kinship terminology ; household as a single economic
unit; context and identification.
Chap. V. SORCERY AND VENGEANCE 54-73
The native concept of ngglambi; infectious guilt; native phrasings
of the cause of death; ngglambi equated with lex talionis; homo-
nymous uses of the word nggamhwa, " vengeance " ; native phrasings
of the cause of death illustrate the identifications described in
Chapter iv ; eleven stories of sorcery and killing documenting these
identifications.
Chap. VI. STRUCTURAL ANALYSIS OF THE WAU-
LAUA RELATIONSHIP 74-85
The wau's behaviour analysed in terms of the identifications de-
scribed in Chapter iv and documented in Chapter v ; these identifi-
cations indicate that wau is a "mother" and a "brother-in-law" of
laua.
I. The IF«w as a " Mother " 75
Sketch of the relationship between a mother and her child ; her
gifts of food to the child; her vicarious pride; the mother as a
comforter ; analogous behaviour of wau ; exaggeration in wau of the
natural behaviour of mother; behaviour of laua analogous to
behaviour of son towards mother ; his loyalty.
xiv Contents
Chap. VI. Structural Analysis etc. (cont.)
2. The Wau as a "Wife's Brother" 78
Sketch of the relationship beuveen brothers-in-law; bride-price;
indebtedness ; co-operation ; joking about mutual opposition ; in-
sistence upon loyalrj' bet\veen brothers-in-law ; dut>' of peace-making
between maternal clan and wife's clan; analogies between wau-laua
relationship and that of brothers-in-law ; laua presents valuables to
wau.
3. Other Details of Wau& Behaviour 82
The ceremonial in which wau rubs his buttocks on laua's leg is not
describable in terms of either aspect of the wau's position; com-
bination of identifications would label wau as "wife" of laua;
suggestion that the ceremonial is an expression of this relationship ;
supporting evidence for this; problem of elaboration of culture;
details of behaviour which might be described in terms of weak
identification between wau and laua's father; exaggeration of wau's
behaviour; the relationship between wau and laua summarised in
a diagram.
Chap. VH. THE SOCIOLOGY OF NAVEN 86-107
The Integration of latmul Communities 86
Assumption that by naven the kinship link between wau and laua
is strengthened ; the importance of statistics in Sociology ; the type
of statistical information required ; an outline of the marriage system
of the latmul, showing that in this society there is no mechanism
for the repetition of marriages in succeeding generations; iai
marriage; marriage with father's sister's daughter; exchange of
women ; logical relationships between these discordant types of
marriage ; irregular marriages ; the importance of affinal links in the
integration of latmul society; the behaviour which accompanies
these links ; two t^^jes of extended affinal relationship ; lanoa nampa
and laua nyanggu; laua nyanggu defined by past marriages; "women
hither, women thither"; stressing laua relationship equivalent to a
stressing of old affinal links ; size of community limited by internal
cohesion ; fission follows patrilineal linkages and breaks the affinal
links; the weakness of the latter therefore sets limit to the size of
community.
Peripheral and Centripetal Systems 97
Analogous methods of integrating societies; the social function of
codified law and established authority; absence of such mechanisms
among the latmul; system of sanctions among the latmul; the
vengeance sanction ; quarrels are always between peripheral groups,
never between higher and lower authority; four cases illustrating
this ; a thief killed ; a woman caught spying on secret flutes ; a junior
ceremonial house defiled ; a quarrel about suspected adultery.
Contents xv
Chap. VII. The Sociology of Naven (cont.)
Contrasting types of Fission io6
Fission of latmul communities with peripheral orientation leads to
formation of new communities with the same cultural norms as the
parent ; fission of European systems with centripetal organisation
leads to formation of daughter groups with divergent norms.
Chap. VIII. PROBLEMS AND METHODS OF
APPROACH 108-122
Problems 108
Structural and Sociological analysis has answered a number of
questions about naven; other questions remain; exaggeration of
zvau's behaviour; problem of the size of villages; problems of
motivation; wau's hypothetical desire for allegiance; answers based
upon hypothetical "human nature"; difficulties in attributing
affective motive.
Zeitgeist and Configuration 1 1 1
The historian's approach to culture ; Zeitgeist and cultural change ;
Configuration and the adoption of foreign traits of culture ; cultural
emphases, due to standardisation of individuals; standardisation
either by selection or training.
Psychological Theories and Ethology 114
Criticism of answers which invoke universal human nature ; existence
of opposite tendencies in human nature ; need for a criterion which
shall justify us in invoking one tendency rather than another ; concept
of standardisation provides this criterion ; we must verify that the
sentiments invoked are actually fostered in the culture; circular
argument; its justification; definition of ethos (p. 118); ethos and
typology; possibility that future comparative work will provide
verification of ethological hypotheses.
Examples of Ethos in English Culture 119
Chap. IX. THE ETHOS OF lATMUL CULTURE:
THE MEN 123-141
The Ceremonial House 123
The ceremonial house compared with a church; behaviour in the
ceremonial house ; self-consciousness ; debates ; pride in totemic
ancestors ; stealing of names and ancestors ; ritual staged for women.
xvi Contents
Chap. IX. The Ethos of latmul Culture etc. {cont.)
Initiation 129
Irresponsible bullying ; scarification ; hazing of novices ; competition
between the moieties; novices as "wives" of the initiators; etho-
logical processes in initiation; "cutting off their own noses to spite
the other fellow's face " ; a woman sees a whistle in Mindimbit, and
the secrets are therefore shown to the small boys; small boy killed
in Palimbai for insulting wagan, and the wagan are therefore shown
to women.
Headhunting 137
A captive speared; feuds; personal pride and village prosperity;
inability to revenge causes ngglambi; enemy corpse ritually killed;
heads and phallic standing stones; the vanquished give the names
of the dead.
Chap.X. THE ETHOS OF lATMUL CULTURE:
THE WOMEN 142-151
The dwelling house ; fishing ; markets ; assertive women ; taking the
initiative in love; women in headhunting; seeking vengeance;
women's courage commemorated; woman's authority in the house;
double emphasis in women's ethos ; the same double emphasis in
ceremonial; jolly dances for women only; innocent obscenities;
women proud in public procession ; mild transvesticism.
Chap. XI. ATTITUDES TOWARDS DEATH 152-159
A death at night; the women weep; a man is embarrassed; the
burial ; the death of a great fighter ; the men debate ; they set up a
figure of the dead with s>Tnbols of his achievements ; death provides
a contest for competitive boasting; later mortuary ceremonies;
mifitshanggu; "quiet singing"; women's dirges stimulate the men
to caricature ; pride in the presence of certain death.
Chap. XII. THE PREFERRED TYPES 160-170
Ethological contrast and Kretschmer's typology; the violent man
and the man of discretion; a "cranky" informant; types contrasted
in mythology; long noses; typology and phallic symbolism; Mali-
kindjin, a character sketch; ambivalent feelings about him; skinny
sorcerers ; native personality and culture contact ; Tshimbat, a
maladjusted individual ; his pig killed.
Contents xvii
Chap. XIII. ETHOLOGICAL CONTRAST, COMPETI-
TION AND SCHISMOGENESIS 171-197
Heredity and Environment lyi
Biological differences between the sexes ; difficulty of accounting for
ethological contrast in these terms; the possibility that genetic
variation has provided clues for cultural emphasis.
Conditioning factors which maintain Sex Contrast 173
Possibility that male ethos is inculcated in training of youths;
imitation of seniors ; headhunting ; first kill ; such factors maintain
the status quo.
Schismogenesis 175
The status quo as a dynamic equilibrium; schismogenesis defined;
tendencies towards progressive change in behaviour patterns in
relationships ; complementary and symmetrical schismogenesis.
Schismogenesis in latmul Culture 177
Women as an audience; reaction of the men to women's dirging;
complementary schismogenesis in initiation; the boasting of the
laua; symmetrical schismogenesis in initiation.
Schismogenesis in Other Contexts 178
(i) In marriage; (2) in progressive psychological maladjustment;
schismogenesis within the personality; the importance of cultural
emphases; (3) in culture contacts; (4) in politics.
The Progress of Schismogenesis 187
Schismogenic behaviour at first satisfactory; subsequent distortion
of personalities; mutual hostility; mutual envy; distaste for com-
plementary ethos; schismogenesis expected to follow exponential
curve ; two factors which may hasten schismogenesis.
The Control of Schismogenesis 190
The nature of dynamic equilibrium; factors which preserve the
status quo; upper limits of tolerance; over-emphasis of ethos;
processes of change opposed to schismogenesis; (i) complementary
patterns in a symmetrical relationship and symmetrical patterns in
a complementary relationship ; (2) schismogenesis based upon one
pair of complementary patterns may be restrained by patterns of a
different complementary pair; (3) sudden change in the patterns of
a symmetrical schismogenesis ; (4) schismogenesis between two
groups may be checked by schismogenic relationship with an outside
group; (5) balanced hierarchies, etc.; (6) conscious control of
schismogenesis; complicated latmul mechanisms; (7) mutual de-
pendance between conflicting groups; (8) progressive changes in
behaviour resulting in convergence.
xviii Contents
Chap. XIV. THE EXPRESSION OF ETHOS IN A^^ VEN
198-217
Sex Ethos and Naven 198
Many of the details of naven now appear as ethologically normal;
exaggerated behaviour of wau ; mother lying naked ; women showing
pride in public ceremonial ; problems of transvesticism ; the fashion-
able horsewoman ; a theory of latmul transvesticism.
Kinship Motivation and Naven 203
Wau (p. 203); his behaviour interpretable in structural terms; the
incompleteness of such interpretation; factitious emotion; two
degrees of falsity in the emotions attributed to the classificatory wau ;
myths which indicate some hostility between wau and laua ; analysis
of this hostility in terms of wau's structural position as defined by
identifications; hostility connected with wau's position as "brother-
in-law"; effects of this on his relationship with laua; the wau
symbolically claiming the achievements of his laua.
tazvontu (p. 210); differences and analogies between his position
and that of ivau ; his overt expression of hostility.
nyai', nyamun and tshuambo (p. 210) ; sociological, economic, struc-
tural and emotional factors which prevent the father from taking an
active part in naven ; analogous factors in the position of brothers.
Contrast between the motivation of the men and that of the women
(p. 213).
nyame (p. 215); a straightforward expression of negative self-
feeling ; nakedness in various contexts — mourning, supplication and
rejoicing.
iau (p. 215); her identification with the father would provide
structural basis for two opposed behaviour patterns; she adopts
swaggering role.
tshaishi (p. 216); analogies with iau; levirate.
nyanggai (p. 216); her quarrel with tshaishi.
mbora (p. 217); her identification with transvestite wau results in
ambiguity; snatching the feather ornament from iau, symbolically
claiming the achievement.
Chap. XV. THE EIDOS OF lATMUL CULTURE
218-256
The Problem of latmul Complexity 218
The nature of cultural structure; the role of the scientist; eidos
defined (p. 220); standardisation of intellectual activity; selection or
training; spells to improve memory.
Intellectual Activation in latmul Culture 221
Memory; erudition in debate; rote memory probably unimportant;
secret mythology handled as a series of details rather than as nar-
rative; visual and kinaesthetic imagery; naven as an expression of
eidos.
Contents xix
Chap. XV. The Eidos of latmul Culture {cont.)
The Pervasive Nature of Eidos 226
Activation of memory not confined to special individuals ; masters
of ceremony moulding the culture; the naming system not an
isolated context ; the whole culture reflected in the system ; initiation
the only exception.
latmul Paradoxes 229
Day and Night ; the new Sun and the old Sun ; ripples and waves ;
photographic development as a clan secret; the Aiitipodes; lunar
eclipse ; confusion of sociological and affective truth with cognitive
reality ; discrimination and identification of aspects of personality ;
wagan; borassus palm is a fish; the same paradoxes in kinship;
patriliny versus matriliny ; the same paradoxes in naven.
Other Patterns of latmul Thought 235
Pluralism ; monism ; direct and diagonal duahsm ; types of dualism
and schismogenesis (fn. 2, p. 237) ; " artificial " brothers and brothers-
in-law ; kaishi; other types of dualism ; confusion between direct and
diagonal ; dualisms and age differences ; difference in sex equivalent
to difference in age ; staggered series ; generations ; initiatory grades ;
brothers; flutes; Castor and Pollux and comparative methods;
latmul and Australian kinship compared.
Scientific and Native Ways of Thought 250
Sociological thinking among the latmul; structural thinking; etho-
logical thinking ; economic thinking ; thinking in terms of character
formation; diachronic and synchronic thinking.
Other Types of Psychological Standardisation 255
Apollonian and Dionysian; tempo; perseveration.
Chap. XVI. EPILOGUE 1936 257-279
Narrative of the writer's analysis of methods ; lack of orientation in
field work; "Patterns of Culture"; adding ethos to naven; trans-
vesticism ; the fallacy of misplaced concreteness ; structure not a part
but an aspect of culture ; tendency to confuse aspects ; the isolation
of sociology; the separation of ethos from eidos; configuration;
schismogenesis; practical order of methods of approach; various
views of schismogenesis; the equivalence between the two types
of dualism and the two types of schismogenesis ; the inculcation of
eidos; "affective" and "cognitive" aspects of personality defined
in terms of stimulus-response events; various methods of approach
introduce various distortions into the picture of schismogenesis;
evaluation of methods and the importance of separating them.
Chaf. XVII. EPILOGUE 1958 280-303
Index Glossary of Technical and Native Words 307-312
ILLUSTRATIONS
PLATES
Plates Following page 3 1 2
TEXT FIGURES
Fig. I. The wau's kinship position 84
Fig. 2. Marriage with the father's sister's
daughter 89
Fig. 3. Kinship traced through women 94
Fig. 4, Diagram of initiatory groups 245
Fig. 5. The study of the cognitive aspects of
personahty 275
Fig. 6. The study of the affective aspects of
personahty 275
Diagram of the Kinship System 305
NAVEN
CHAPTER I
Methods of Presentation
IF it were possible adequately to present the whole of a
culture, stressing every aspect exactly as it is stressed in
the culture itself, no single detail would appear bizarre or
strange or arbitrary to the reader, but rather the details would
all appear natural and reasonable as they do to the natives
who have lived all their lives within the culture. Such an
exposition may be attempted by either of two methods, by
either scientific or artistic techniques. On the artistic side
we have the works of a small handful of men who have been
not only great travellers and observers but also sensitive
writers — such men as Charles Doughty; and we have also
splendid representations of our own culture in such novels
as those of Jane Austen or John Galsworthy, On the scien-
tific side we have detailed monumental monographs on a few
peoples ; and recently the works of Radcliffe-Brown, Malin-
owski and the Functional School.
These students have set themselves the same great task,
that of describing culture as a whole in such a manner that
each detail shall appear as the natural consequence of the
remainder of the culture. But their method differs from that
of the great artists in one fundamental point. The artist is
content to describe culture in such a manner that many of
its premises and the inter-relations of its parts are implicit
in his composition. He can leave a great many of the most
fundamental aspects of culture to be picked up, not from his
actual words, but from his emphasis. He can choose words
whose very sound is more significant than their dictionary
meaning and he can so group and stress them that the reader
almost unconsciously receives information which is not ex-
plicit in the sentences and which the artist would find it
hard — almost impossible — to express in analytic terms. This
impressionistic technique is utterly foreign to the methods of
science, and the Functional School have set out to describe
2 Methods of Presentation
in analytic, cognitive terms the whole interlocking — almost
living — nexus which is a culture.
Very properly and naturally they have paid greatest atten-
tion to those aspects of culture which lend themselves most
readily to description in analytic terms. They have described
the structure of several societies and shown the main outlines
of the pragmatic functioning of this structure. But they have
scarcely attempted the delineation of those aspects of cul-
ture which the artist is able to express by impressionistic
methods. If we read Arabia Deserta, we are struck by the
astonishing way in which every incident is informed with the
emotional tone of Arab life. More than this, many of the
incidents would be impossible with a different emotional
/background. Evidently then the emotional background is
causally active within a culture, and no functional study can
• ever be reasonably complete unless it links up the structure
' and pragmatic working of the culture with its emotional tone
i or ethos.i
The present work is a description of certain ceremonial
behaviour of the latmul people of New Guinea in which men
dress as women and women dress as men, and an attempt —
crude and imperfect, since the technique is new — to relate
this behaviour, not only to the structure and pragmatic
functioning of latmul culture, but also to its ethos.
This enquiry will involve me in a perhaps tedious discussion
of abstractions, and to those who have some difficulty with,
or a distaste for, epistemology I would recommend that they
read first the descriptive chapters, especially those on the
ethos of latmul culture, so that a preliminary study of con-
crete examples may make clear my abstractions. Others may
find that the Epilogue, in which I have recounted some of the
^ At a later stage I shall examine and attempt to define these concepts
of Structure, Function and Ethos in a more critical manner, but since
the concept of Ethos is still unfamiliar to many anthropologists, it may
be well to insert here the definition which the Oxford English Dictionary
gives of the word. The definition reads: "i. The characteristic spirit,
prevalent tone of sentiment of a people or community; the 'genius' of
an institution or system." The earliest example of the use of ethos in
this sense is quoted from Palgrave, 1851. I must ask classical scholars
to forgive the plural "ethoses" which I have coined in preference to
"ethe". The latter could never be English.
Methods of Presentation 3
theoretical errors into which I fell in the course of my
enquiry, will help them to understand my present theoretical
position.
At this early stage, I wish to make it perfectly clear that
I do not regard Ritual, Structure, Pragmatic Functioning
and Ethos as independent entities but as fundamentally in-
separable aspects of culture. Since, however, it is impossible
to present the whole of a culture simultaneously in a single
flash, I must begin at some arbitrarily chosen point in the
analysis; and since words must necessarily be arranged in
lines, I must present the culture, which like all other cultures
is really an elaborate reticulum of interlocking cause and
effect, not with a network of words but with words in linear
series. The order in which such a description is arranged
is necessarily arbitrary and artificial, and I shall therefore
choose that arrangement which will bring my methods of
approach into the sharpest relief. I shall first present the
ceremonial behaviour, torn from its context so that it
appears bizarre and nonsensical; and I shall then describe
the various aspects of its cultural setting and indicate how
the ceremonial can be related to the various aspects of the
culture.
Throughout this analysis I shall confine myself to syn-
chronic explanations of the phenomena, that is to say, to
explanations which invoke only such other phenomena as are
now present in latmul culture, or which, like head-hunting,
have disappeared so recently that they can be considered as
part of the natural setting of the ceremonies as I collected
them. I shall not enquire what either the ceremonies or their
cultural setting may have been like in the past. In my use
of causal terminology I shall be referring to conditional rather
than to precipitating causes. Thus in a synchronic study of
a fire I should say that the fire burns because there is oxygen
in the room,^ etc., but I should not enquire how the fire was
first ignited.
^ I have endeavoured to avoid phrasings reminiscent of the statement,
"the square of the velocity is a cause of the kinetic energy". But when
I was first working out the lines of thought upon which this book is based
I not infrequently fell into this verbal error and it is likely that in some
cases the mistake has passed uncorrected.
4 Methods of Presentation
It is of course true that the ceremonies have had a history
and it would no doubt be possible to speculate about that
history. But such is not my purpose. I shall be content only
to show some of the sorts of functional relationship which
exist between the ceremonies and the remainder of the con-
temporary culture of the latmul. Perhaps, in the future, a
clearer understanding of the synchronic aspects of society will
enable us to isolate and define the diachronic, the processes
of cultural change.
The latmul people^ live on the middle reaches of the Sepik
River in the Mandated Territory of New Guinea. They are j
a fine, proud, head-hunting people who live in big villages
with a population of between two hundred and a thousand
individuals in each village. Their social organisation, kinship
and religious systems are developed to an extreme of com-
plexity. The community is subdivided into groups according
to two independent systems with very little congruence be-
tween one system and the other. On the one hand there is a
division into two totemic moieties which are further sub-
divided into phratries and clans ; and on the other hand there
is a division into two cross-cutting pairs of initiatory moieties
which are subdivided into age grades. None of these groups
are strictly exogamous. Membership of all the groups is
determined by patrilineal descent.
In spite of this strong emphasis upon patriliny, the people
pay a great deal of attention to kinship links through the
mother or sister, and both the patrilineal and matrilineal links
are preserved in a classificatory system through many genera-
tions. Thus the term wau (mother's brother) and laua (sister's
child, m.s.) are used not only between own mother's brother
and sister's children, but also in a classificatory way, so that
the term wau includes such relatives as mother's mother's
sister's son (cf. Fig. 3, p. 94) even though all three of the
^ A preliminary account of this people, based on the results of my first
expedition, has been published in Oceania (1932, vol. 11, nos. 3 and 4).
The present paper is based upon the work of this first expedition as well
as on my second expedition when I spent a further fifteen months among
the latmul. My first expedition was financed by Cambridge University
with a grant from the Anthony Wilkin Fund. The second was financed
jointly by the Royal Society and the Percy Sladen Trust.
Methods of Presentation 5
Intervening women through whom the kinship is traced have
married into different clans. It is with the relations between
classificatory waus}- and lauas that this book chiefly deals.
^ In the latmul language there is no suffix attached to substantives to
indicate plurality. I have therefore used the English suffix, -s, for this
purpose. In place of the latmul possessive suffix, -na, I have used the
ordinary English -'s. Native words are in all cases italicised but the
English suffixes remain in ordinary type.
CHAPTER II
The Naven Ceremonies
OCCASIONS ON WHICH NAVEN
ARE PERFORMED
TH E ceremonies are called naven and are performed in
celebration of the acts and achievements of the laua
(sister's child). Whenever a laua — boy or girl, man or
woman — performs some standard cultural act, and especially
when the child performs this act for the first time in its life,
the occasion may be celebrated by its ivau. The possible occa-
sions for the performance of naven are very numerous and
very frequent. In the case of a boy the list of acts and achieve-
ments which may be celebrated in this way is a long one, and
may conveniently be divided into five categories :
I . Major achievements which, though greeted with a more
elaborate naven upon their first performance, are also received
with some show of naven behaviour every time they occur.
Of these the most important is homicide. The first time a boy
kills an enemy or a foreigner or some bought victim is made
the occasion for the most complete naven, involving the
greatest number of relatives and the greatest variety of ritual
incidents. Later in his life when the achievement is repeated,
there will still be some naven performance on the part of the
wau, but the majority of the ritual incidents will probably
be omitted. Next to actual homicide, the most honoured
acts are those which help others to successful killing. The
man standing on the bow of a war canoe does not carry a
spear-thrower but carries instead a very light paddle set in
a long bamboo shaft; with this he wards off darts from the
spear-throwers of the enemy. This man may be honoured
with naven for any kills effected by members of his canoe.
Another act contributory to killing which may be honoured is
the enticing of foreigners into the village so that others may
kill them. Far behind these in importance come such achieve-
ments as the killing of a large crocodile, the killing of a wild
The Naven Ceremonies 7
pig, the spearing of a giant eel, etc. — achievements which are
still sufficiently important whenever they are repeated to
stimulate the wau at least to a ritual greeting and perhaps to
the throwing of a cloud of lime at the laua.
2. Minor cultural acts which are celebrated only upon
the first occasion of their achievement. Actually it would
perhaps be correct to say that the first performance of any
cultural act may be the excuse for a naven. An informant in
Mindimbit village, however, gave me a long list, and I have
added to it one or two other acts which I know may be cele-
brated with naven. This list, though of course it is not
complete, is yet worth reproducing, because it illustrates the
sort of act which may be noticed by the wau. It includes:
killing any of the following animals — birds, fish, eel, tortoise,
flying fox; planting any of the following plants — yams,
tobacco, taro, coconut, areca, betel, sago, sugar-cane ; spotting
an opossum in the bush; felling a sago palm, opening it
and beating sago; using a spear-thrower; using a throwing
stick to kill a bird; using a stone axe (or nowadays a steel
knife or axe); sharpening a fish spear; cutting a paddle;
making a canoe; making a digging stick; making a spear-
thrower; incising patterns on a lime gourd; plaiting an arm
band; making a shell girdle; belting a hand drum; beating
a slit-gong ; blowing a trumpet ; playing a flute ; beating the
^ secreT^it-gongs called wagan ; travelling to another village
and returning; acquiring shell valuables; buying an axe,
knife, mirror, etc. ; buying areca nut ; killing a pig and standing
a feast.
3. Acts characteristic of laua. The relationship between
laua and wau is marked by various forms of characteristic
behaviour — acts which each performs in reference to the
other. Such acts may be described as duties, services, or
privileges, and it is not at all easy in any given case to decide
which of these terms should be applied. In general, whenever
the laua performs any conspicuous act which is characteristic
of his position as laua, the wau will respond with some show
of naven behaviour. These acts include such ceremonials as
the exhibition of totemic ancestors of wau's clan, dancing
in masks which represent these ancestors and carving their
8 The Naven Ceremonies
images on the posts which are to stand in the section of the
ceremonial house which belongs to the wau's clan. Several
of the musical activities mentioned above — e.g. beating secret
slit-gongs and playing flutes, may also fall within this category
of services to the wau's, clan, A man may blow the flutes of
his own clan and his musical accomplishment be greeted by
naven upon the first occasion, but it is also his duty or privi-
lege to blow the totemic flutes of his zvau's, clan on certain
special occasions; and this act, like other honouring of the
wau's, totems, will be greeted with naven behaviour upon
every occasion when it is repeated. Besides ritual duties and
privileges, the laua will help his wau in such labours as house
building ; and in the formal debating in the ceremonial house,
the laua will often speak on the side of his wau's clan. All
such acts will be hailed by the wau whenever they occur with
gestures and exclamations reminiscent of naven.
4. Boasting in the presence of the wau. It is correct for a
boy to boast in the presence of his wau, but the latter may
resent this behaviour if it is carried to excess; and he will,
in this event, make a gesture suggestive of turning his but-
tocks to his laua. I have never seen the complete gesture of
rubbing the buttocks on the laud's shin, the climax of the
naven, carried out in reply to laud's boasts ; usually the threat
is sufficient to curb the young man's tongue. But it is
generally stated that, when exasperated, a wau may complete
the gesture and, by so doing, involve the laua in a presentation
of valuables to the wau. It is probable that this boasting in
the presence of the wau should be classified with the other
acts characteristic of the laua. But the case diifers from the
others in that the naven behaviour of the wau is carried out
in anger or annoyance. In the other cases the naven behaviour
is on the whole a method of complimenting or congratulating
the laua upon his achievements.
5. Changes in social status. Such events in the boy's life
as : the boring of his ears, the boring of his nasal septum, his
initiation, his marriage, his becoming possessed by a shamanic
spirit, may all be celebrated with naven when they occur,
I feel some hesitation in applying the term change of status
to these events, since the culture does not clearly emphasise
The Naven Ceremonies 9
the concepts of status and promotion. Even in the graded
initiatory system, the event which the wau celebrates is not
the promotion of the boy from one grade to the next, but the
completion of the ceremony of initiation which may take
place years before the general shifting of age-grade member-
ship. In any case it must be clearly understood that the
naven ceremonies are in no sense rites de passage, although
they may celebrate or emphasise the fact that such rites have
been performed. The actual rites of initiation are performed
by the elder age grade within a system of social groupings
and moieties which is to a great extent independent of clans
and totemism. The fact that the rite de passage has been
performed is afterwards celebrated by the wau within the
different social grouping which is organised on the basis of
the family and totemic clans.
The other most important events in a man's life — his birth
and his death — are neither of them celebrated by naven. In
the case of birth, the wau will go to the child soon after it is
born and present it with a coconut and a personal name which
refers to the totemic ancestors of the wau's clan. Though
I have never seen this done, I believe that the wau might
well exclaim: " Lan men to!" (husband thou indeed!) when
the baby gripped his fingers. This exclamation, as we shall
see later, is one of the characteristic details of naven behaviour.
We shall see too that the giving of the special name is an act
which demonstrates the existence of the wau-laua relation-
ship ; and that the coconut is the first in a long series of gift
exchanges which will accompany naven and other ceremonies.
In the case of death, there is again no naven, but the classifi-
catory wau plays an important part in the mortuary cere-
monies, and finally claims the dead man as in some special
sense a member of the maternal clan, pulling the figure which
represents him towards himself with a hook. In the land of
the dead the ghost will henceforth live under the names which
have been given to him by his wau.
The event of marriage may be celebrated not only by wau,
but also, I believe, by tawontu (wife's brother). In one of
the myths which I collected, there occurs a casual mention
of the fact that a bride's own brother rubs his buttocks on
lo The Naven Ceremonies
the bridegroom's shin. I do not know of any other occasion
which is celebrated in this way by tawontu.
There are more naven and more occasions for naven in the
life of a boy or a man than in the Hfe of a girl, but the achieve-
ments of a girl may also be occasions for naven. The list for
a girl includes: catching nsh with hook and line; collecting
mayflies ; washing sago ; cooking sago pancakes ; cooking sago
paste ; making a fish trap, a rain cape or a mosquito bag ; and
bearing a child. These events all fall into the category of
cultural acts which are celebrated at their first accomplish-
ment. Besides these there are two other events, initiation and
dancing in the tshugukepma dances, both of which may be
celebrated with naven. The initiation of girls is distinct from
female puberty ceremonies and consists of scarification and
the showing of flutes. It is a simplified version of the initia-
tion of boys and is carried out by the men of the elder age
grade. The ceremony is performed on only a very few women.
The tshugukepma ceremonies are occasions on which the
lauas exhibit the totemic ancestors of the waus clan and
dance in masks which represent these ancestors, so that they
fall into the category of "acts characteristic of laua". I do
not know anything about girls boasting in the presence of
their zvaus ; in any case zvau's gesture of rubbing his buttocks
on laua's shin is specifically a part of naven for a boy, and an
analogue of this gesture in the ceremonies for a girl may be
seen in the pantomime of her birth from the belly of wau.
MATERIALS UPON WHICH THE
DESCRIPTION IS BASED
Although the list of possible occasions is so long, in actual
practice large naven ceremonies are not very often performed,
and their frequency is perhaps limited by the expense which
they involve. In most instances, if the land's, achievement is
brought to the notice of the zcau, the latter only exclaims:
^^ Lan men to!" (husband thou indeed!), throws some lime
over his laua and hails him ceremonially with a string of
names of ancestors of zcaii's clan. Besides these instances in
The Naven Ceremonies ii
which the naveji ritual is reduced to mere gestures and ex-
clamations, there are many naven which are only celebrated
on a small scale. It is hard for me to judge of the frequency
of these small naven because I may often have heard nothing
of such occurrences even though they took place while I was
in the village. I have only witnessed five nave7i in which any
of the ritual was carried out. Of these, one was in the village
of Mindimbit, for a group of children who had been out
working sago in the swamps and had returned, the little boys
having accomplished the felling of the palm and the beating
of the pith and the little girls having washed the resulting
pulp to get the sago (cf. the myth quoted on p. 3 6). I witnessed
two naven in Kankanamun village, one of which was for a
boy who had made a canoe and the other for a young man
who had killed a pig and stood a feast. In both of these
ceremonies only the women (mothers, fathers' sisters, and
elder brothers' wives) took part, the waus apparently ignoring
the occasions. I witnessed one naven in Palimbai for a big
new canoe ; in this only two waus took part and the occasion
was ignored by the women. Lastly, I witnessed an incident
in Malinggai in which a wau dashed into the midst of a
tshugukeptna dance and rubbed his buttocks on the shin of
a male laua who was impersonating one of the wau's clan
ancestors. Besides these small navens — none of which was
at all elaborate — I obtained good descriptions of a larger
naven which took place in Mindimbit for a little girl who
had caught a fish with hook and line, and I collected, also in
Mindimbit, good descriptions of the elaborate and varied
naven ceremonies which used to be held for the successful
homicide. My account of naven is based on this material
together with scattered references to naven in the conversa-
tions of informants and in mythology.
The four villages, Mindimbit, Kankanamun, Palimbai and
Malinggai, are closely related in language and culture, and
references to the small local differences in social organisation
and behaviour will be inserted when relevant.
12 The Naven Ceremonies
DESCRIPTION OF THE CEREMONIES
The outstanding feature of the ceremonies is the dressing
of men in women's clothes and of women in the clothes
of men. The classificatory wau dresses himself in the most
filthy of widow's weeds, and when so arrayed he is referred
to as "nyame" ("mother"). Plates II to IV show two
classificatory zoaus arrayed for the naven of the young man
in Palimbai who had made a large canoe for the first time in
his life. They put on the most filthy old tousled skirts such
as only the ugliest and most decrepit widows might wear, and
like widows they were smeared with ashes. Considerable
ingenuity went into this costuming, and all of it was directed
towards creating an effect of utter decrepitude. On their
heads they wore tattered old capes which were beginning to
unravel and to fall to pieces with age and decay. Their bellies
were bound with string like those of pregnant women. In
their noses they wore, suspended in place of the little triangles
of mother-of-pearl shell which women wear on festive occa-
sions, large triangular lumps of old sago pancakes, the stale
orts of a long past meal.
In this disgusting costume and with absolutely grave faces
(their gravity was noted with special approbation by the
bystanders), the two "mothers" hobbled about the village
each using as a walking stick a short shafted paddle such as
women use. Indeed, even with this support, they could hardly
walk, so decrepit were they. The children of the village
greeted these figures with screams of laughter and thronged
around the two "mothers", following wherever they went
and bursting into new shrieks whenever the "mothers", in
their feebleness, stumbled and fell and, falling, demonstrated
their femaleness by assuming on the ground grotesque atti-
tudes with their legs widespread.
The "mothers" wandered about the village in this way
looking for their "child" (the laua) and from time to time
in high-pitched, cracked voices they enquired of the by-
standers to learn where the young man had gone. "We have
a fowl to give to the young man" (cf. Plate II). Actually the
The Naven Ceremonies 13
laua during this performance had either left the village or
hidden himself. As soon as he found out that his waus were
going to shame themselves in this way, he went away to
avoid seeing the spectacle of their degraded behaviour.
If the wau can find the boy he will further demean himself
by rubbing the cleft of his buttocks down the length of his
laua's, leg, a sort of sexual salute which is said to have the
effect of causing the laua to make haste to get valuables which
he may present to his wau to "make him all right ".^ The
laua should, nominally at least, fetch valuables according to
the number of times that the wau repeats the gesture — one
shell for each rubbing of the buttocks.
The wau's gesture is called mogul nggelak-ka. In this
phrase the word mogul means "anus", while nggelak-ka is a
transitive verb which means "grooving", e.g. ian nggelak-ka
means to dig a ditch. The suffix -ka is closely analogous to
the English suffix, -ing, used to form present participles and
verbal nouns.
This gesture of the wau I have only seen once. This was
when a wau dashed into the midst of a dance and performed
the gesture upon his laua who was celebrating the wau's
ancestors. The wau ran into the crowd, turned his back on
the laua and rapidly lowered himself — almost fell — into a
squatting position in such a way that as his legs bent under
him his buttocks rubbed down the length of the laua's leg.
But in the particular naven which I am describing, the two
waus, did not find their laua and had to content themselves
with wandering around the village in search of him. Finally
they came to the big canoe which he had made — the achieve-
ment which they were celebrating. They then collapsed into
the canoe and for a few moments lay in it apparently helpless
and exhausted (Plate IV), with their legs wide apart in the
attitudes which the children found so amusing. Gradually
they recovered and picked up their paddles, and sitting in
the canoe in the bow and stern (women sit to paddle a canoe,
but men stand), they slowly took it for a short voyage on the
^ This is the pidgin English translation of an latmul phrase, kunak-ket.
The suffix -ket is purposive ; and the word kunak means to " make ready ",
"repair", or "propitiate".
14 The Naven Ceremonies
lake. When they returned they came ashore and hobbled off.
The performance was over and they went away and washed
themselves and put on their ordinary garments. The fowl
was finally given to the laua and it became his duty to make
a return present of shell valuables to his ivau at some later
date. Return presents of this kind are ceremonially given,
(generally on occasions when some other dances are being
performed. The shells are tied to a spear and so presented
to the wau.
In more elaborate naven, especially those in which women
play a part, there is a classificatory spreading of ritual be-
haviour not only to cause the classificatory relatives of the
actual laiia to perform naven for him, but also to cause per-
sons not otherwise involved to adopt 7iaven behaviour towards
other individuals who may be identified in some way with
the actual laua. For example, the characteristic naven be-
haviour of the elder brother's wives is the beating of their
husband's younger brother when his achievements are being
celebrated. Owing to the classificatory spreading of the naven
not only does the boy who has worked sago get beaten by
his elder brother's wives, but also the boy's father's elder
brothers' wives get up and beat the father. Further, men
other than the performing wau?, may take the opportunity
to make presentations of food to their various lauas,.
Some of this classificatory spreading occurred in the naven
in Mindimbit which was celebrated for the children who
had worked sago for the first time. In this ceremony only
female relatives performed and their costume was in sharp
contrast to that of the waus, described above. The wau dresses
himself in the filthiest of female garments, but the majority
of the women, when they put on the garments of men, wear
the smartest of male attire. The female relatives who per-
formed were sisters (nyanggai), fathers' sisters (lau), elder
brothers' wives [tshatshi), mothers (nyame), and mothers'
brothers' wives (mbora) — all these terms being used in a
classificatory as well as in the narrow sense.
Of these relatives the sisters, fathers' sisters and elder
brothers' wives dressed as men, borrowing the very best of
feather headdresses and homicidal ornaments from their
The Naven Ceremonies 15
menfolk (husbands or brothers or fathers). Their faces were
painted white with sulphur, as is the privilege of homicides,
and in their hands they carried the decorated lime boxes used
by men and serrated lime sticks with pendant tassels whose
number is a tally of men killed by the owner. This costume
was very becoming to the women and was admired by the
men. In it the women were very proud of themselves. They
walked about flaunting their feathers and grating their lime
sticks in the boxes, producing the loud sound which men use
to express anger, pride and assertiveness. Indeed so great
was their pleasure in this particular detail of male behaviour
that the husband of one of them, when I met him on the day
following the performance, complained sorrowfully that his
wife had worn away all the serrations on his lime stick so
that it would no longer make a sound.
The mothers and mothers' brothers' wives wore different
types of costume. The mother stripped off her skirt but did
not put on any male ornaments, and the mothers' brothers'
wives put on filthy widow's weeds, like those of the zcauy
described above.
With these modifications of costume there goes also a
modification of the kinship terms used for these women.
Thus :
iau (father's sister) becomes ''iau-ndo " or "nyai' " (literally
"father").
tshaishi (elder brother's wife) becomes tshaishi-ndo or
nyatnun (literally "elder brother").
mbora (mother's brother's wife) becomes mbora-ndo.
nyanggai (sister) becomes nyanggai-ndo.
In these special terms the suffix -ndo means "man". The
mothers, who alone of the female relatives concerned in naveti
put on no male attire, are still described as nyame (mother).
The children's canoe came back from the sago swamps late
in the morning and as soon as it was sighted from the banks
of the river, word was shouted in to the village which lies
back from the river on a little lake. The women assembled
on the shores of the lake and when the canoe entered, they
swam out to greet and splash the children, as is done when
1 6 The Naven Ceremonies
a canoe returns from a successful head-hunting raid. When
the children had landed, the village appeared to go mad for
awhile; fathers' sisters and elder brothers' wives dashing
about searching respectively for their various brothers' chil-
dren and husbands' younger brothers in order to beat them.
The men who were expecting to be beaten did their best to
avoid the ceremony by skulking in the ceremonial houses,
but the women on these occasions have unusual licence (per-
haps because they are in men's costume). Whenever a iau
saw her kanggat (brother's child, w.s.) or a tshaishi saw her
tshuambo (husband's younger brother) in one of the cere-
monial houses, she dashed into the usually forbidden spot,
stick in hand, and gave him several good blows; and, if he
ran away, she chased him, beating him as he ran. On a
similar occasion in Kankanamun, when the women were
celebrating naven for a young man who had killed a pig and
was standing a feast, they hesitated to enter a ceremonial
house in which a debate was in progress. The men stopped
the debate for their benefit and the whole crowd of them
danced into the ceremonial house in a column. Arrived there,
the colurnn broke up and each woman went and beat her
appropriate relatives.^
On the occasion in Mindimbit which I am describing, I did
not see any activity of the mothers and sisters. The activity
of the other women dressed as men continued off and on
throughout the rest of the day. In the evening, the women
had a small dance by themselves. It is the custom of the
men to take off their pubic aprons after dark and the women
accordingly stripped off the flying-fox-skin aprons, which
they had borrowed from their husbands and brothers, and
danced with their loins uncovered, still wearing their splendid
feather headdresses and ornaments. There was no apparent
embarrassment of the men at this exposure in their women-
^ To this account of the beatings, two points may be added which
I did not observe at the time but of which I was later informed. It is
said that the actual father of the hero would only be slightly beaten by
his tshaishi but that the father's younger brother (tshambwi-nyai') would
be severely beaten. I was also told that on these occasions the tshaishi
will exclaim " tshtiambo-ket wonggegio" — (I will rape my young
brother).
The Naven Ceremonies ly
folk — but the older men were rather shocked at this lack of
embarrassment. The dance was held close to one of the
smaller ceremonial houses and one of the old men remarked
to me in scandalised tones that it was "shocking" to see the
younger men crowding to this ceremonial house, where they
had no business but a good view of the women's dance.
It was the ceremonial house of a particular clan, but that
evening it was full of young men, members of every clan in
the village.
In the case of the naven in Mindimbit for the little girl
who had caught a fish with hook and line, the performance was
still more elaborate, not because the achievement was very
important but perhaps because the waus were anxious to
obtain shell valuables by presenting pigs to their lauas. From
the accounts which I collected, it appears that in this naveti
both male and female relatives took part and eight pigs were
killed. Besides the little girl who had caught a fish (a month
or two before the ceremony), two other little girls were
honoured, and the resulting naven spread to almost every
individual in the village. One pig was even presented to a
classificatory laua in the next village.
Four zoaus were dressed as " mothers " and their skirts were
tucked up so as to expose their genitals. Three of these waus
are described as carrying the little girls "on their heads" —
presumably carrying girls in the position in which mothers
habitually carry their children astride on the shoulder (cf.
Plate V b). The fourth zvau was also dressed as a mother but
wore no skirt. He was tied down on some sort of "bed" or
stretcher, on which he was lifted and violently swung by a
number of men who, while they rocked the stretcher, sang
songs of the wau's clan. The little girl who had caught the
fish was placed on the belly of this wau, her father meanwhile
standing by with an adze to which he had tied a mother-of-
pearl crescent. This adze he gave into the little girl's hands
and with it she cut the bonds which held her wau to the
stretcher. She then gave the decorated adze to the wau and
with it he raised himself to a sitting position on the stretcher,
supporting himself by means of the adze. Similarly the
fathers of the other little girls presented valuables to the
1 8 The Naven Ceremonies
girls' waus and at the same time loosed the waus' skirts. The
waus then resumed their normal male attire.
During the above performance a mbora, the wife of the
wau who was tied to the stretcher, danced with her skirts
tucked up to expose her genitals. She wore a string bag over
her head and face, and carried a digging stick, holding it
horizontally behind her shoulders with her hands raised to
hold it on each side. At the conclusion of the dance she was
presented with a mother-of-pearl crescent and three Turbo
shells by the father of the little girl.
The whole of this ritual pantomime acted by the wau
appears to me to be a representation of the birth of the little
girl from the belly of her mother's brother, though none of
my male informants (in Kankanamun where I made enquiries)
had ever heard of the custom of tying the woman in labour
on a stretcher. The dance of the mbora (mother's brother's
wife), with her arms stretched back behind her head, also
probably represents the position of a woman in labour.
A general presentation of food and valuables followed this
ceremony. Eight pigs were killed and presented. Of these
one was given by her wau to the little girl who had caught a
fish, and she ceremonially stepped upon it. Of the remaining
pigs, three were given by wau?, to classificatory lauas, in-
cluding one pig which was given to the donor's sister's hus-
band's father,^ in the next village. One of the other pigs was
given by a woman to her husband's sister's child (i.e. mbora
gave to nasa, husband's sister's child). One was given to a
classificatory sister's husband (i.e. to the potential father of a
laua), and one was given to a widowed classificatory sister.^
^ This relative also is called laua. The latmul kinship system is charac-
terised by an alternation of generations similar to that found in many
Australian systems. Theoretically a man is re-incarnated in his son's son;
and a woman in her brother's son's daughter. In general the kinship
term which is appropriate for a given relative will also be appropriate
for any other relative of the same sex in an analogous position two
patrilineal generations away. Thus the term nyarnun is used both for elder
brother and for father's father. The term nyame is used both for mother
and for son's wife. In the present instance the term laua is used both
for sister's husband's son and sister's husband's father.
^ According to the collected account, the eighth pig was given by a
man to his own mother's brother's son. This is anomalous and probably
either the account is at fault or the two persons concerned were also
related in an inverse way through some other route.
The Naven Ceremonies 19
We have seen above that the father of the laua provided
the valuables which the little girl gave to her wau. In the
general presentation of food and valuables this pattern is
further extended so that the exchanges actually take place
between the relatives of wives on the one hand and the rela-
tives of husbands on the other. The wife's clan and her
classificatory brothers, etc., give pigs to the husband's son or
to the husband's father or to the husband. This system is
summed up in the native language by saying that the wau-
nyame nampa (mother's brother and mother people) give pigs
to the lanoa nampa (husband people) or laua nyanggu (sisters'
children people) — these two terms being almost synonymous
(cf. p. 93). In the return presentation of valuables, the
classificatory brothers and other relatives of the recipients
of pigs contributed to the accumulation of valuables which
made up the return gifts, so that the list was exceedingly
elaborate and involved a great number of people, related in
the most various ways to the original donors of the pigs.
The last naven to which I shall refer is that which used to
be celebrated for the successful homicide when he had accom-
plished his first kill. The account which I have of these cere-
monies repeats some of the material which I have already
given, but it also describes four other pantomime incidents
which may be celebrated on such occasions. The incidents
are apparently independent one of the other, but all of them
involve the same types of transvesticism which I have de-
scribed above. The only exception to this is the costume of
mbora, who though she wears ragged female attire in the
first incident puts on (probably ragged^) male attire in the
second and third.
In the first incident, the mbora dances in bedraggled skirt
with her head inside a fishing net. She wears the enemy
head suspended from her neck, and with her raised hands she
holds a digging stick behind her shoulders. Another mbora
might have the jaw bone from the enemy head hung around
her neck. This dance continues until sunset when the nasa
^ Unfortunately I do not know whether the mbora wears smart or
bedraggled costume when dressed as a male — but I suspect that she, like
her husband, wears filth.
20 The Naven Ceremonies
(husband's sister's son) brings a Turbo shell tied to a spear
and, presenting this, looses the old skirt from his mhora.
In the second incident, the iau-ndo (father's sisters in male
costume) carry in their hands a feather ornament such as
the homicide will wear in his headdress. The mhora-ndo
(mother's brother's wives in male costume) lie down on the
ground and the iau-ndo go stepping across them carrying the
feathers. The mhora-ndo then snatch the feathers and run
off with them.
In the third incident, the zvau puts on a skirt and fixes
an orange-coloured fruit, mbuandi {Ervatamia aurantiaca), in
his anus and goes up the ladder of a house displaying this as
he climbs. At the top of the ladder he goes through the
actions of copulation with his wife, who is dressed and acts
as the male. The laua is much ashamed at this spectacle and
the laua's sister would weep at it. The orange fruit represents
an anal clitoris, an anatomical feature frequently imagined
by the latmul and appropriate to the waus assumption of
grotesque feminity. My informant told me that, after the
mhora, acting as male, had copulated with the wan, the other
women would all follow suit — and we may imagine a scene
of considerable confusion around the unfortunate wau.
In the fourth incident, a large pear-shaped prawn trap
wuth lobster pot entrance is put on the ladder of a house.
All the women of the village lie down naked on the ground,
side by side in front of the ladder. The killer steps over the
women to go up into the house. As he walks, he is ashamed
to look at their genitals ; he therefore goes with his head up,
feeling his way with his feet. On this occasion the women
would say of the vulva: " That so small a place out of which
this big man came." The only women over whom he would
not step are his sister and his wife. His sister would accom-
pany him as he steps. She shows no modesty but attacks
the vulvae with her hands as she passes — especially that of
tshaishi, the elder brother's wife. Seeing this, she would
exclaim: "A vulva!" But tshaishi would reply: "No! A
penis!"
After this the tshaishi sings a comic song, beating time
with a coconut shell. The text of this song, like that of all
The Naven Ceremonies 21
latmul songs, is built upon a series of totemic names, in this
case, names of the fish trap set on the ladder.
This fish trap, Alie-namak^ fish trap.
Go ! you will never shoot it.
Go! you will never spear it.
This is Woli's^ fish trap.
This is Tanmbwa's^ fish trap.
Go ! You will never shoot it.
Go! You will never spear it. Etc.
This is repeated substituting other names for Alie-namak in
the first line. At the close of the song the killer spears the
trap and goes up into the house.
In this last incident, the fish trap is certainly a symbol of
the vulva, and this symbol occurs also in esoteric mythology,
together with the complementary symbol, the eel, which gets
caught in the trap.
Before attempting to account for the details of the cere-
monial, we may conveniently summarise the naveti behaviour
of the various relatives :
Wau (mother's brother) wears grotesque female attire;
off"ers his buttocks to male laua; in pantomime gives birth
to female laua who looses his bonds; supports himself on
the adze presented by her; presents food to laua of either
sex and receives in return shell valuables; acts as female in
grotesque copulation with mbora. These ceremonial acts may
be performed either by own wau or classificatory wau — most
usually the latter.
Mbora (mother's brother's wife) wears either grotesque
female attire or (probably grotesque) male attire ; dances with
digging stick behind her head; takes male part in mimic
copulation with wau ; like wau she presents food to the hero
of the naven and receives valuables in return.
lau (father's sister) wears splendid male attire; beats the
boy for whom naven is celebrated ; steps across his prostrate
mbora ; participates in mimic contest between mbora and iau
^ Alie-namak: this is a totemic name for a fish trap, an ancestor of
Mandali clan. The meaning of the word, alie, is unknown to me. The word,
namak, is an old term for naniivi — fish trap.
*■ ' Woli and Tanmbwa: these are two names for the East Wind and
are used in the jargon of shamans to refer to women. Each of these lines
therefore means: "This is a woman's fish trap."
22 The Naven Ceremonies
in which the former snatch the feather headdress from the
latter.
Nyame (mother) removes her skirt but is not transvestite ;
Hes prostrate with other women when the homicide steps
across them all.
Nyanggai (sister) wears splendid male attire ; accompanies
the homicide, her brother, when he steps across the women ;
he is ashamed but she attacks their genitals, especially that
of tshatshi; weeps when wau displays anal clitoris.
Tshaishi (elder brother's wife) wears splendid male attire ;
beats husband's younger brother and her vulva is attacked
by his sister.
Tawontu (wife's brother, i.e. wan of ego's children) pre-
sents food to sister's husband (lando) and receives valuables
in return. Tawontu may, I believe, rub his buttocks on lando's
shin, when the latter marries tawontu s own sister.
CHAPTER III
The Concepts of Structure and Function
STRUCTURE
I HAVE described the naven ceremonies with a minimum
of references to the culture in which they are set; and
any attempt to explain them must take the form of relating
the ceremonies to their setting. Even to construct an historical
theory of their origin would require an exhaustive examina-
tion of the remainder of the culture, and this is still more
true of any theorising which would account for the naven in
terms of the structure or of the functioning mechanisms of
the culture. Since I shall try to give analyses of the position
of naven from both structural and functional points of view,
it will be well to state definitely what I mean at this stage^
by the two concepts, Structure and Function.
The anthropologist in the field collects details of culturally
standardised behaviour. A large part of this material takes
the form of native statements about behaviour. Such state-
ments may be seen as themselves details of behaviour ; or, more
cautiously, we may regard them as true and supplementary
to the anthropologist's account of behaviour which he has
witnessed.
We can view any such detail from a structural point of
^ This chapter contains a statement of my theoretical position when
I was writing the body of this book. The various descriptive chapters were
a series of experiments in the use of the different abstractions which are
here discriminated and defined. On the whole these abstractions have
stood the test of experiment, and their use has led to generalisations which
I have thought interesting.
The meaning which I attach to the terms affective and cognitive is here
left vague, and the whole book was written with a vague use of these terms.
I hoped that experiments in the description of culture might clear up this
matter which the study of individual psychology has left obscure. In
the Epilogue from a comparison of my various methods I have gone on
to attempt the solution of this problem, and the position at which I finally
arrive is slightly different from that which is outlined in this chapter.
To re-write my statement of working hypotheses in terms of the results
of my experiments would take away from the "detective interest" of the
theoretical chapters.
24 The Concepts of Structure and Function
view. Thus when a mother gives food to her child, we can
see impHcit in this cultural act a number of structural assump-
tions: that mothers feed children; that children are depen-
dent on their mothers; that mothers are kind; that taro is
edible; etc. etc. When we study a culture, we find at once
that the same structural assumptions are present in large
numbers of its details. Thus in the behaviour of all latmul
mothers we can collect a series of diverse details, all of which
imply that women look after children; and in a structural
enquiry we may regard the phrase "look after" as a sort of
shorthand by which we may refer to one structural aspect
of all these details of cultural behaviour. Such shorthand
is not the creation solely of the anthropologist ; every culture
contains generalised concepts which are a shorthand means
of referrmg collectively to structural aspects of large numbers
of details of standardised behaviour. In this structural ap-
proach, we shall see such phrases as "mother", "moiety",
"patriliny", etc., as generalised abstractions for referring to
the structural aspects of large masses of cultural details, i.e.
details of standardised behaviour.
Used in this sense, the term. Structure, is closely related
in meaning to the term "tradition". But the latter term has
disadvantages ; it is evidently out of place in any synchronic
analysis, since in such an analysis the historical origin of any
cultural detail is irrelevant. In spite of this the word "tradi-
tion " does sometimes creep into synchronic studies. In such
contexts the word must clearly be stripped of all reference
to the past or to diachronic processes. When so stripped,
"tradition" can only mean t\vQ given facts of a culture, facts
which are "given" as premises. Thus it comes about that
the word "tradition" is sometimes used in synchronic
analysis as a synonym for " cultural structure " as here defined.
The word, structure, is a convenient collective term for
this aspect of a culture, but it has the disadvantage that it
cannot conveniently be used to refer severally to the elements
of which structure is built. I shall therefore use the word
premise for these elements. Thus a premise is a generalised
statement of a particular assumption or implication recognisable
in a number of details of cultural behaviour.
The Concepts of Structure and Function 25
We shall see that there is a great deal of variation in the
extent to which the premises of a culture are explicitly stated
by the people; that in many cases they may only be stated
in symbolic terms — by the terminology of kinship, by meta-
phoric cliches, more obscurely by ritual, or, in latmul cul-
ture, by some trick in the giving of personal names. But in
spite of this variation, it is convenient to use the term for
any general statement whose expression can be directly col-
lected from informants or which can be shown over and over
again to be implicit in the behaviour of individuals.
The existence of premises or "formulations" in culture
has, of course, always been recognised, but it is not sufficiently
realised to what extent the various premises of a culture are
built together into a coherent scheme. The student of cul-
tural structure can detect syllogisms of the general type:
"A mother gives food to children, a mother's brother is
identified with the mother, therefore mother's brothers give
food to children." And by these syllogisms the whole struc-
ture of a culture is netted together into a coherent whole.
As I see it, the task of structural anthropology is the investiga-
tion of these schemes in culture, and I would define cultural
structure as a collective term for the coherent "logical"^ scheme
which may be constructed by the scientist^ fitting together the
various premises of the culture.
Besides this use of the word, structure, to refer to an aspect
of culture, there is a second perfectly valid use of the term
to refer, not to culture, but to society. It is in this sense that
the word is chiefly used by Radcliff"e- Brown and it is im-
portant to keep the two senses distinct. In the study of
cultural structure we take details of behaviour as our units
and see them as linked together into a "logical" scheme;
whereas in the study of social structure we shall take human
^ In this definition I certainly am not using the term "logic" in that
strict sense in which it is used in our own culture to describe a discipline
of thought in which the species of steps involved are rigidly and con-
sciously controlled. I do mean, however, that the elements of structiire
are linked together by steps. But it is probable that cultures may vary
in the species of steps which link their premises together, and that the
word "logic" must therefore be interpreted differently In every culture.
This concept, the eidos, of a culture will be elaborated at a later stage
in this work.
26 The Concepts of Structure and Function
individuals as our units and see them as linked together into
groups — e.g. as kin, as clan members or as members of a
community. Such a difference as that drawn (p. 97) be-
tween peripheral and centripetal orientation of social systems
might, for example, be described as a difference in social
structure.
Thus in the two disciplines, the sociological and the cul-
tural, we shall to a great extent be studying the same phe-
nomena, but looking at them from two different points of
view. In the study of cultural structure we shall see clans
and kinship terminology as shorthand references to details
of behaviour, while in the study of social structure we shall
see these groupings as segments in the anatomy of the com-
munity, as a part of the mechanism by which the community
is integrated and organised.
For the present I do not see my way to a clear isolation of
the study of social function from that of social structure, and
I believe that the most useful approach to these disciplines
which we have at our disposal is that which sees social
structure in relation to the integration and disintegration
of the society. Therefore I shall consider these two subjects
together under the general heading "Sociology of naven".
But it is easy and, I believe, valuable to isolate the study of
cultural structure from that of other aspects of the culture
and these subjects I shall therefore treat separately.
FUNCTION
The term, Function, is more difficult to define since it is
ambiguous. On the one hand we have the wide philosophical
use of the term to cover the whole play of synchronic cause
and effect within the culture, irrespective of any consideration
of purpose or adaptation. Using the term in this sense we
might say that the naven ceremonies are a function of all
those elements of culture or properties of society upon whose
presence the existence of the ceremonies depends. If, further,
it can be shown that the naven ceremonies play some part in
the integration of the community, we may say that the size
of the latmul villages is a function of — amongst other things —
The Concepts of Structure and Function 27
the naven ceremonies. This is a perfectly consistent and logical
use of the term and one which anthropologists might do well
to adopt.i They might then insert qualifying adjectives to
indicate what sort of interdependence they are discussing. We
should then have such phrases as : structural function, social
function, pragmatic function, etc.
But unfortunately the word, function, may also be used in
the popular sense to mean useful adaptive effect and it is often
not perfectly clear in which of these senses the word is used
in modern anthropology. Malinowski tends to define func-
tion in terms of adaptation, to regard all the elements of
culture as "working directly or indirectly for the satisfaction
of human needs ", and he deduces from this that every detail
of culture is "at work, functioning, active, efficient ".^ This
method of approach is probably sound and its careful in-
vestigation might give a coherent system of anthropology
allied to systems of economics based upon " calculating man ".
But unfortunately the other sense of the word, function, has
confused the issue. Thus we find: "The simplest as well as
the most elaborate artifact is defined by its function, the
part that it plays within a system of human activities; it is
defined by the ideas that are connected with it and by the
values which surround it."^ From this we must suppose that
"function" is here being used not only in reference to the
satisfaction of human needs but also in reference to the inter-
dependence of elements of culture.
The position is complicated and difficult; and for me at
least it is not simplified by the theory that culture may be
subdivided into "institutions", where each institution is
defined by its special function or functions. To me it seems
premature to attempt such an analysis into institutions until
the concepts covered by the term, function, have been
analysed,
^ The chief difficulty, which this use involves, is that on this principle
the naven ceremonies could be shown to be a function of everything else
in the universe and the anthropologist will be faced with the problem
of defining his spheres of relevance. The attempt to subdivide culture
into institutions is, no doubt, designed to delimit spheres of relevance.
2 Both quotations are from the Enc. Soc. Set. 1931, art. Culture,
p. 625.
* Loc. cit. p. 626.
28 The Concepts of Structure and Function
But if, instead of emphasising the subdivision of culture,
we examine the possibilities of subdividing and classifying
different types of functions, I believe that some degree of
clarity can be achieved and that we shall then see some chance
of unravelling the laws of social and cultural functioning.
A short and incomplete list of the chief kinds of effect to
which the term, function, has been applied will suffice to
demonstrate the present confusion and the sort of modifica-
tion which I am suggesting :
1 . The direct satisfaction of human needs.
2. The indirect satisfaction of human needs.
3. The modification, elaboration, etc., of human needs.
4. The moulding and training of human beings.
5. The integration of groups of human beings.
6. Various sorts of interdependence and relationship be-
tween elements of culture.
7. The maintenance of the status quo. Etc.^
In such a list the fact which chiefly strikes us is that every one
of these types of function is dependent upon every other type.
It is this fact which has so impressed the functionalists that
they have fought shy of analysing the concept of function.
Scientific anthropology was born in an age when the older
sciences had so far solved their domestic problems that they
were beginning to extend their enquiries into the borderline
areas which separate one science from another. The result
of this extension has been a new sense of the fundamental
unity of science and of the world. But the effects upon anthro-
pology have been disastrous. The emphasis upon unity has
retarded analysis. Physics and chemistry are benefiting greatly
from a pooling of their problems and methods, but this does
not mean that they did not benefit by their separation in the
past. The great advances in knowledge are made by analysis
of the problems, by the separation of one class of problem
from another. To state that all problems are inter-related is
mystical and unprofitable. To isolate them is artificial but
^ The excellence of the field work done by members of the functional
school is no doubt due to the width of the net which they throw into the
sea of culture. I am not here advocating any reduction of this width
but rather a greater discrimination in the sorting of the catch.
The Concepts of Structure and Function 29
not more so than is the use of pure materials in a chemical
laboratory.
The state of affairs in anthropology is perhaps not quite
as bad as I have drawn it. We have on the one hand Radcliffe-
Brown, who tends to see all the elements of culture in their
bearing upon the solidarity, the integration, of the group.
He insists that purely psychological considerations are irrele-
vant in this matter and he discriminates social structure from
pragmatic function and regards each as presenting its special
type of problem to be studied by its own special discipline.
And on the other hand we have the developing science of
economics which specialises in that type of social function
which is concerned with the satisfaction of human needs and
desires — a worthy methodological attempt perhaps hampered
by a narrow view of human needs. ^
These are considerable advances and in this book I shall
build upon the disciplines discriminated by Radcliffe- Brown.
I shall endeavour to consider the functional position (using
the term in its widest philosophical sense) of the naven cere-
monies from five different points of view. That is to say,
I shall classify functions into five categories so that the various
parts of the book will illustrate five different methods of
approach to the problems of culture and society. As far as
possible, I shall keep these methods of approach separate and
shall indicate where I depart from this procedure.
The categories which I have chosen are:
1 . Structural or " logical " relationships, between the cogni-
tive aspects of the various details of cultural behaviour:
the cognitive reasons for behaviour.
2. Affective^ relationships, between details of cultural
^ Sargent Florence {Economics and Human Behaviour, chap, iv, 1927)
discusses the position taken up by Henderson in economics — the assump-
tion that we can retain " calculating man " as a basic postulate of economics
provided we make no assumptions as to the terms in which the calcula-
tion takes place. This restriction provides a convenient methodological
isolation of economics from psychology.
^ Although the terms "affect" and "cognition" are now in some dis-
favour among psychologists, I have been compelled to adopt the adjectives
derived from them. I believe that the dangers and fallacies inherent in
these terms may to a great extent be avoided if we speak not of " affective
mechanisms" and " cognitive mechanisms" but of affective and cognitive
aspects of the behaviour of a single mechanism, the individual.
30 The Concepts of Structure and Function
behaviour and the basic or derived emotional needs and
desires of the individuals : the affective motivation of details
of behaviour.
3. Ethological relationships, between the emotional aspects
of details of cultural behaviour and the emotional emphases
of the culture as a whole.
4. Eidological relationships, between the cognitive aspects
of details of cultural behaviour and the general patterning
of the cultural structure.
5 . Sociological relationships, between the cultural behaviour
of the individuals and the needs of the group as a whole : the
maintenance of solidarity, etc.
Of these five categories of relationship between bits of
anthropological material, it is clear that one, the sociological,
is in a class apart. Of the others, the ethological is very closely
related to the affective, and the eidological is very closely
related in an analogous manner to the structural.^
Besides these, there are two other methods of approach
which I shall not consider in any detail, namely, those
of developmental psychology and economics. These are
omitted, not because I decry their importance but because
I did not collect in the field the material which would have
illustrated these approaches.
Of these categories but little need be said at this stage in
our enquiry. The concepts of structure, both social and cul-
tural, I owe very largely to Radcliffe- Brown; while another
concept, that of "pragmatic function", was derived from
Malinowski. This latter concept I have subdivided for
several reasons.
Let us consider some rather more concrete examples of
"pragmatic" functioning. The term is applied to such effects
as : increase of sociability among individuals ; increased soli-
darity of the community; increased family pride; the con-
firmation of the privileges of individuals and the enforcing
of their rights and duties ; substantiation of belief in magical
^ Indeed so close are the resemblances between these pairs of categories
that I have been led to refer to the affective functions of behaviour as "the
expression of ethos in behaviour"; and I might similarly have referred
to the structural functions as "the expression of eidos in behaviour".
The Concepts of Structure and Function 3 1
efficiency and the strengthening of traditional law and order. ^
At a first glance many of these functions would appear to be
"useful", and anthropologists have been tempted to attach
value to functions of this sort without more ado. But their
usefulness becomes more problematical when we realise that
many of these effects may be mutually antagonistic, that for
example an increase in family pride may well disrupt the
solidarity of the community; or, again, excessive emphasis
upon solidarity within the community may conceivably lead
to wars with outside peoples and so to the destruction of the
status quo. In the light of the potential antagonism between
these effects, it would seem that value can only be attributed
to them with great caution ; and in a sample list of valuable
effects we should certainly include all the opposites of the
effects stressed by the Functional School — the reduction of
solidarity, the reduction of family pride, the relaxing of
duties, etc.
Again, if we consider this sample list of functions in diverse
settings, their value becomes still more problematic. A nomad
people living on the barest margin of physical sustenance,
and drastically regulating population by infanticide, is not
likely to be interested in integrating a larger population. The
truth of the matter is that different peoples attach very
different values to these various effects. Some peoples ap-
prove of sociability while others are inclined to frown upon
the sociable talkative individual and to regard him as un-
dignified and intruding. The "strength of traditional law"
is very important in some African communities, but the
phrase is almost meaningless when applied to the latmul who
have a highly individualistic culture and will readily respect
the law-breaker if he have but sufficient force of personality.
The latmul too — like the Irish — set no exaggerated value
upon extremely orderly behaviour. They desire a degree of
orderliness very different from that demanded by, say, a
Quaker community. And so on; whichever of these effects
we take we shall find that among certain peoples that effect
^ This sample list of functions, and the term "pragmatic function"
applied to them, are derived from Malinowski's article "Anthropology",
Supplement to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1926. They are the functions
which he ascribes to myths of various types.
32 The Concepts of Structure and Function
is highly valued while among others it is ignored or despised.
The same conclusions apply not only to such abstract effects
as the strength of law and integration, but even to such con-
crete matters as the food supply, one people setting a high
value on good living while an ascetic group may take but
little interest in the flesh pots.
It is, I think, time that anthropologists took account of
this enormous variation in the value which different peoples
set upon the effects which modern functional anthropology
has to offer them. In the light of this variation it is obviously
dangerous to state that the significant pragmatic function of
a given detail of a given culture is the increase of family
pride — unless it can first be shown that family pride is really
one of the effects which is valued in other contexts of the
particular culture which we are studying.
Here, then, we arrive at a very different type of functional
relationship. We began by considering the relation between
details of culture on the one hand and the needs and desires
of the individual on the other. But we are now faced with
the fact that we cannot guess at those needs and desires but
must first deduce them from the emphases of the culture
as a whole. Thus, if we isolate from "pragmatic function"
the concept of affective function which we may define, rigidly,
in terms of the relation between details of culture and the
emotional needs of individuals, it follows that we must con-
struct another category for the relationship between the
emotional content of the particular detail of behaviour whose
functions we are studying and the emotional emphases of
the culture as a whole. This category of function I shall call
ethological ; and I shall use the word ethos to refer collectively
to the emotional emphases of the culture.
Similar considerations (see footnote to the word " logical ",
p. 25) will lead us from the isolation of the concept of cul-
tural structure to the isolation of eidos. From the examination
of the premises in the structure of a particular culture we can
fit them together into a coherent system and finally arrive
at some general picture of the cognitive processes involved.
This general picture I shall call the eidos of the culture.
But, though the relationship between eidos and structural
The Concepts of Structure and Function 33
premises is so closely analogous to that between ethos and
affective functions, there is one anomaly to which attention
must be called. We have seen that the study of ethos is a
necessary preliminary to any conclusions about pragmatic
functions. But in the case of structure and eidos, the order
of procedure is reversed. The details of the cultural structure
are to be first studied and from these the eidos is deduced.
This reversal is due to the fact that in studying cultural
structure we are concerned with the manifest cognitive con-
tent of behaviour, whereas in studying pragmatic functions
we are concerned with the much more obscure emotional
content. The manifest content can be described piece by piece
and the underlying system deduced from the resulting de-
scription. But emotional significance can only be ascribed
after the culture as a whole has been examined.
Apart from this diflFerence in procedure, the ethological
and eidological approaches to culture are very closely analo-
gous. Both are based upon the same fundamental double
hypothesis: that the individuals in a community are stan-
dardised by their culture ; while the pervading general char-
acteristics of a culture, those characteristics which may be
recognised over and over again in its most diverse contexts,
are an expression of this standardisation. This hypothesis is,
in a sense, circular ; it is supposed that the pervading charac-
teristics of the culture not only express, but also promote the
standardisation of the individuals.
For this double assumption, we are chiefly indebted to
Dr Benedict ; and the concepts, ethos and eidos, which I am
suggesting may be regarded as subdivisions of her more
general concept. Configuration. The eidos of a culture is an
expression of the standardised cognitive aspects of the indi-
viduals, while the ethos is the corresponding expression of
their standardised affective aspects. The sum of ethos and
eidos, plus such general characteristics of a culture as may be
due to other types of standardisation, together make up the
configuration.^
^ Dr Benedict was kind enough to read a large part of this book in
manuscript form before it was completed and she agrees with me that
this is a correct statement of the relationship of ethos and eidos to con-
figuration.
34 The Concepts of Structure and Function
This hypothesis of the standardisation of the individuals
goes a long way to make clear the inter-relationships of the
various disciplines which we have so far isolated — the struc-
tural and eidological, pragmatic and ethological — but it also
brings to the fore another separable discipline, another
category of function. This discipline is generally called
Developmental Psychology, the study of the moulding of the
individual by the circumstances of his environment, the
psychological effects upon him of the impact of culture.
Thus we have worked down from the study of cultural
processes to the study of individual psychology, linking the
two ends of the scale by the abstract^ concept of the "stan-
dardised individual ".
Returning now to the raw material of anthropology, the
facts of native behaviour noted down by the field worker,
we may see the whole of this mass as relevant to a final
separable discipline. This is concerned with the effects of
behaviour in satisfying the needs of groups of individuals, in
maintaining or impeding the continued existence of that
abstract organism — the Society. This category of function
I shall call Social Function and shall use the term Sociology
in a restricted sense to refer to its study, as distinct from that
of the other separable disciplines, ^ In this discipline of
sociology, as Radcliffe-Brown has pointed out, individual
psychology becomes irrelevant to the same extent that Atomic
Physics is methodologically irrelevant in the study of Bio-
chemistry.
^ It may be possible in the light of future work to define the "stan-
dardised individual" in rather more concrete terms. For the present it is
not possible to say whether by this concept we mean the "average" or
the " ideal " individual. Nor is it at all clear what differences will be intro-
duced into the theory of culture according to our interpretation of the
"standard". These matters can only be cleared up after more intensive
work has been done on normal and maladjusted individuals in various
cultures.
^ Malinowski, I believe, includes under the term "pragmatic function"
not only the type of function to which I apply that term but also what I am
here calling "social function". The difference in our points of view
springs largely from his definition of function in terms of the direct
or indirect satisfaction of the individuals. I have defined pragmatic func-
tion in terms of direct satisfaction only, leaving the various steps in the
roundabout routes of indirect satisfaction for separate examination in
the other categories of function.
CHAPTER IV
Cultural Premises relevant to the
Wau-laua Relationship
IN this section and that which follows it, I shall view the
elements of latmul culture as links in a structural system.
I shall see the mother's gifts of food to her child and the
child's loyalty to its mother as details of behaviour which are
assumed and expected in this culture, as premises. Later, in
another section, I shall consider such cultural facts in their
relation to needs and desires. I shall for the present endeavour
only to show that the premises of latmul culture are connected
together into a coherent, "logical" system. I shall consider
syntheses of the type: a mother gives food to her child.
A mother's brother is identified with the mother. Therefore
a mother's brother gives food to his sister's son.
For the handling of cultural elements as parts of a structure
Radcliffe- Brown has suggested a very useful technique in-
volving the use of the technical term identification. This term
has given rise to a certain amount of misunderstanding and
I must explain the sense in which I use it. The term is a
shorthand method of referring collectively to the structural
aspects of large numbers of details of a culture. When I say
that siblings are identified I mean that in this culture there is
a large number of details of culturally standardised behaviour
in which the behaviour of one sibling resembles that of the
other; and I also mean that many details of the behaviour
of outside individuals towards one sibling are reproduced in
their behaviour towards the other. Further, we shall see
that, in latmul culture at least, when two individuals are
identified it is usual for one of them to behave as if he had
performed certain acts which as a matter of fact were per-
formed by the other. ^ Similarly, outside persons behave
^ The most striking case of this occurs in the identification between
Hving individuals and their ancestors. Among the latmul one often hears
such statements as "/ was on the stern of the canoe which brought the
first people to Mindimbit village!", meaning that an ancestor who had
the same name as the speaker played this part in the founding of the
village.
36 Cultural Premises relevant to
towards the one individual as if he had performed the acts
which were performed by the other.
The statement that siblings are identified does not imply
the absence of details of behaviour which would discriminate
between them. Thus the word identification is used relatively
and not absolutely. It is common to find that in one series
of contexts two individuals are identified, while in another
series they are contrasted. Thus we shall see that, in latmul
culture, father and son are identified in their relations with
the outside world while between themselves they are dras-
tically contrasted. In so far as they are identified, they are
regarded as allies but in so far as they are contrasted, they
are regarded as mutually opposed in their interests.
The technique of describing identification is by far the
best so far evolved for the mapping of kinship systems ; and
for the study of naven we have to consider one important
discrimination and four major types of identification :
I. That mother's brother {wau) is distinct from father's
brother or father {iiyai'). This discrimination is made overtly
in the kinship terms and is implicit in many of the patterns
of behaviour towards these relatives. In the present context
this premise may be suitably illustrated by a myth about
naven :
A boy and girl — brother and sister — went out to work sago in a
sago swamp. As they went in their canoe the mayflies came out
and the surface of the river was covered with them, so they set to
work and collected a great quantity of mayflies. The fish too began
to rise and the,.boy speared a number of fish. Then they went on
to the sago swamp where the boy felled a sago palm and beat the
pith out of the trunk. The girl took the pith and washed it and
collected the sago. On their way home they were met by their
father and mother who had come out to meet them in a canoe,
and who exclaimed: "Who speared the fish?" and "Who beat the
sago?" The boy and girl replied that they two had speared the
fish and beaten the sago. Then the father took off his pubic apron
and the mother took off her skirt and they began to dance a naven.
The boy and girl exclaimed: "Why are you dancing?" and were
utterly ashamed. So the boy and girl put the sago and the fish
back in their canoe and paddled away to their wau. When they
reached the house, wau and mbora (mother's brother's wife) came
out and took up the fish and sago, and wau took off his apron and
mbora took off her skirt and danced a naven, and mbora took up
the Wau-Iaua Relationship 37
the fish and sago and cooked them and she and wau ate. Later
mbora brought a pig which she had fattened and wau presented it
to the two laua who set their feet upon it. Then they went and
prepared shell valuables and presented them to the wau.
This discrimination between father and mother's brother
is especially conspicuous in all those contexts in which their
behaviour is influenced by their membership in different
patrilineal clans. Every clan has its series of myths about
ancestors. These myths and the spells which are based upon
them are secrets which are carefully preserved by the descen-
dant clans. A man will normally pass on his esoteric know-
ledge to one of his sons ; but sometimes he will impart the
clan secrets and spells to a sister's son. In the latter case the
esoterica must be ceremonially paid for with shell valuables
and the sister's son is supposed not to pass on the wau's
esoterica to his own sons.
The entrusting of esoterica to the laua is a strong affirma-
tion of the tie between him and his zvau. It implies con-
siderable trust and confidence on the waus part since the
laua, when he has been told the secrets, may easily use them
in debate to his wau's undoing and shame. The motive which
leads the wau to take this risk is, I think, a hope that the laua
will speak on his side in debates. Malikindjin, who spurned
the idea that he needed any assistance in debate (cf. p. 165),
yet taught a part of his esoteric learning to his laua, saying,
"When I am dead, my laua will help my son in his debates".
I was told of one case only in which a laua used, in debate
against his wau, information which the latter had confided
to him.
Sometimes a clan has the misfortune to lose its ancestral
traditions and must then buy them back from its lauas.
An interesting case of discrimination between wau and
father occurs in Mindimbit,^ in the procedure which accom-
panies a small boy's first killing of a human being. For this
important occasion the father of the boy will obtain, either
by capture or purchase, a captive from a neighbouring com-
^ This ceremonial point is apparently not made in Kankanamun and
Palimbai, where I asked my informants about the corresponding pro-
cedure. They seemed to think it did not matter who helped the boy in
his kill : that probably the father would do it.
38 Cultural Premises relevant to
munity and this captive will be speared by the boy. But the
killing is in many cases carried out while the child is still too
young to wield a spear ; and so he must be helped in the per-
formance of the deed. This help must not be provided by
the father because the natives say that the kill would in that
case be the father's achievement and not that of the son.
But the wau can help the child; he will hold the spear and
direct the child's thrust, and after this the kill will count as
the achievement of the child.
Similarly wau is discriminated from father in economic
contexts. Here the pattern is the inverse of that in contexts
of achievement. When a boy is collecting valuables to provide
a bride price, his father will, as a matter of course, help him
and will not expect any formal recompense for the valuables
which he contributes. The wau hiay also contribute, but in
this case he will expect some return. Usually the boy will
make this return in the form of a contribution to the wau's
son when the latter is collecting valuables to get a wife. Thus,
in contexts which concern valuables, the boy is grouped with
his father and separated from the maternal clan; while in
contexts of achievement the boy is united with the maternal
clan and separated from his father. But in both types of
context the wau is discriminated from the father.
In spite of this discrimination, we shall see that there is
also a trace of identification between father and wau and that
this appears even in some details of their behaviour towards
the laua (cf. p. 83). In other contexts, in which the same
two persons are concerned, not dealing with the laua to
whom they appear as wau and nyai, but dealing with the
outside world to whom they appear as a pair of brothers-
in-law, we shall see that co-operation and competition, identi-
fication and discrimination, are very evenly mixed in the
patterning of their mutual relationship.
2. That there is a certain identity between a father and
his son. This premise is expres?ed, for example, in the
patrilineal system of clans, and in many other ways. For the
present purpose it will suffice if we examine in some detail
only one of the contributory lines of evidence — that from
the vocabulary of kinship — and omit the others. I have
the Wau-laua Relationship 39
already published ^ a series of examples of the latmul ten-
dency to summarise and formulate the behaviour of indi-
viduals by using the terminology of kinship in an analogic
manner. This usage is sufficiently familiar in our own society
to need no stressing, and since the latmul have carried this
practice further than we have, we can with unusual safety
refer to the vocabulary as evidence of the formulated struc-
ture of the kinship system.
The vocabulary of kinship contains a number of phrases
in which two kinship terms are used in juxtaposition to indi-
cate a group of relatives who are closely associated in the
native mind, and from such compound forms we may deduce
a close identification between the behaviour of and towards
the types of kin who are actually named in the compound
phrases. As an example we may take the term nggwail-
warangka in which the word figgwail means father's father
and warangka means father's father's father. The whole
compound is a collective term for patrilineal ancestors, a group
of relatives who are classified together in latmul culture.^
There are several other cases in which compound terms
meaning "a certain relative and his father" are used to
denote whole groups of relatives who are identified together,
for example: wau-mbuambo (mother's brother and mother's
brother's son), which is a collective term for all the members
of the maternal clan ; towa-naisagut (abbreviated from tawontu-
naisaguty and meaning literally wife's brother and wife's
father), which is a collective term for the whole of the wife's
clan; laua-ianan (sister's son and sister's son's son), a col-
lective term for the descendants of the men who married
the speaker's sister. In all these terms the identity of a son
with his father is emphasised.
A similar identification is implied by an incorrect use of
kinship terms for the mother's brother's son and mother's
brother's son's wife. These two relatives are normally spoken
of as mbuambo, a term which identifies them with mother's
father and mother's mother. But one informant in Palimbai
^ Oceania, 1932, p. 266.
^ The same set of relatives is constantly invoked in name-songs, in
the refrain: " nyai' nya! nyamun a!" — (O Father! O Elder brother!).
4© Cultural Premises relevant to
told me that after the death of the mother's brother, the term
wau is used for the mother's brother's son, and the term
mbora (mother's brother's wife) is then appHed to the mother's
brother's son's wife. Other informants said that this was
incorrect, but I suspect that if the culture were left un-
disturbed this usage might become more general. Among
the neighbouring Tshuosh people there is no distinction in
terminology between the male members of different genera-
tions of the maternal clan; all are called wau. Among the
latmul too, such a use of terms would fit with the wau's
motive in teaching his esoterica to his laua — "When I
am dead my laua will help my sons in their debates"
(cf. p. 37).
Here it must be stressed that the identification of father
and son, while it is conspicuous in their relations with out-
side persons, is not allowed to become a basis for easy
intimacy between them. Such intimacy is sternly discouraged,
and in its place the conflict between successive generations
is emphasised and is handled in a dignified manner. While
the father may resent bitterly and avenge any scolding or
blows which others may administer to his son, he himself is
in a disciplinary position and may strike his son in anger.
But in contrast to the disciplinary position of the father, we
find that the son will gradually displace the father. These two
facts are the basis of the formulations which govern their
relationship. The possibility of any overlapping between
father and son, in social status, is drastically limited by taboos
which are felt not to be arbitrary but rather to indicate the
only proper way of meeting the situation. The father must
never profit at the expense of his son. He will never eat
anything which the son has grown in his garden, nor may
he eat food gathered by his son, even though it be from the
father's own garden. When they are in a canoe together, the
son normally takes the position of honour in the bow and,
while he is there, the father will never scoop up water from
alongside to quench his thirst. In the initiatory system the
son is normally two grades below his father (see diagram,
p. 245). But the people are continually readjusting the balance
between the grades and it occasionally happens that an attempt
the Wau-laua Relationship 41
is made to promote a boy into the grade of which his father
is a member. Such an attempt is violently resisted by the
boy, who feels that this will be to intrude upon his father's
dignity. But the father will make no resistance to his son's
promotion, since it ill becomes him to defend his own pride
at the price of his son's advancement. I think that in most
cases the promotion is finally effected. But in one case which
I witnessed it was successfully resisted by the son after he
had finally said that he would abide by his wau's decision.
The wau was consulted and opposed the promotion. Thus
the son is as much concerned as the father to avoid any over-
lapping of social status.
The taboos which a father observes are obeyed chiefly
because the father feels them to, be right. But they are to
some extent reinforced by a belief that if he eats food col-
lected by his son he will soon grow old — perhaps a symbolic
statement of the fact that in so doing the father will be
behaving like a grandfather.^ But more important than this
sanction is the strength of public feeling. The idea of in-
timacy between father and grown son is shocking to the
latmul. While I was on the Sepik, a European father and
son settled together on the Ceram River many miles away,
where they started a small, isolated tobacco plantation. The
latmul heard of this and were surprised and shocked. They
came to me to ask if the two were really father and son and
were disgusted when I told them that it was so. They said,
" Has the father no shame? "
These taboos have very little classificatory spread. They
apply only to own father, father's own younger brothers
(father's elder brother is addressed as mbuambo, a term
which means, among other things, "maternal grandfather")
and own father's tambinyen or partner in the opposite
moiety.2
The behaviour patterns between father and son are marked
^ In latmul social organisation, alternate generations in the patri-
lineal line are grouped into two opposite tnbapma (literally, "lines") as
in Australian kinship systems. It follows from this that a father, in
identifying himself with his son, would be behaving as if he were the
boy's grandfather.
^ See Oceania, 1932, p. 264.
42 Cultural Premises relevant to
typically by restraint on both sides. Each respects the other,
and both are rather quiet and stiff when talking together.
But this does not mean that an outsider who is speaking in
the presence of one of them can make remarks about the
other. A very real identification of interests and of needs
exists between them in spite of their mutual avoidance of
overlapping status.
3. That in spite of the patrilineal system, the child is linked
in some way with its mother's clan. This premise may be
recognised, symbolically expressed, in the native theory of
gestation. It is supposed that the bones of the child are a
product of the father's semen, while its flesh and blood
(somewhat less important) are provided by the mother's
menstrual blood. This idea is carried logically to the con-
clusion that the afterbirth, lacking bones, is therefore the
child of the mother only.
The child is in one way a member of its father's clan, but
at the same time it is in quite a different way a member of
its mother's clan. This formulation is expressed by the giving
of two sets of names to the child. One set are names of the
totemic ancestors of the father's clan, while the other set are
names of the totemic ancestors of the mother's clan. These
two sets of names have different terminations : the patrilineal
names end in suffixes which mean "man", "woman",
" body ", etc., while the names of the ancestors of the mother's
clan end in the suffix, -awan, which probably means "mask"
and is perhaps connected with the custom mentioned above
of dancing in masks which represent the totemic ancestors
of the maternal clan.^
These two sets of names are apparently felt to represent
two quite different facets of the individual's personality.
After death a man dwells in the land of the dead under the
names which his wau gave him, but he is, at the same time,
reincarnated in his son's son under his patrilineal name. In
the techniques of black magic it is the -mvan name which is
^ The etymology of suffixes attached to the names which are given
by the ivau is doubtful. The corresponding names given to female children
end in the suffix, -yelishi. This word means "old woman" or "old lady".
It is possible that the word awan means "old man" and that this word is
only applied metaphorically to the masks called awan.
the Wau-laua Relationship 43
used by the sorcerer in addressing the figure which represents
his victim; and the people take some sHght care not to use
the -awan names after dark, lest the witches overhear and
use the name to the detriment of its owner.^
In general, it would seem that the names given by the wau
represent a more mysterious aspect of the personality than
those given by the father. In a sense the link with the
maternal clan is analogous to that with the paternal and each
is expressed by the giving of names ; but while according to
the patrilineal name the child is a "man" or "body", ac-
cording to the matrilineal he is a "mask". Similarly in the
patrilineal theory of reincarnation the child is concretely
stated to be a reincarnation of a father's father, while his
identity with the ancestors of his mother's clan is only
symbolically expressed in ritual and ceremonial behaviour.
This ritual behaviour may conveniently be enumerated at
this point:
{a) The giving of -awan and -handi names.
{b) The use of the term, nyai' nggwail. This term means
literally "father and father's father", but it is not used as
a term of address within the clan except in invoking the
ancestors collectively. It is, however, the ordinary term of
address used reciprocally between wau and laua. The term
which is correspondingly used between members of the same
patrilineal group is bandi, which also means "novice",
"initiate" or "young man" ^
(c) The custom of tshat kundi. " Nyai' nggwail'' is the
ordinary form of address used by the wau in talking to his
^ One informant in Palimbai told me that the name used in sorcery
is not the -aivan name, but the -bandi name. The word bandi means an
initiate (i.e. either a novice or an initiated person) and names with this
suffix are given to novices by their wans at the end of initiation. The same
informant said that women and children who have no -bandi names
could therefore not be killed by this species of magic. The -bandi name,
like the -aiuan name, refers to ancestors of the maternal clan.
^ There is a curious tangle here, which I have not been able to unravel.
In the light of the general identification between laua and ancestors it is
understandable that the zvau should call his laua "father and father's
father". But it is not at all clear why the laua should use the same term
for the loan. Still less is it clear why brothers and fathers should address
each other by the term bandi, seeing that the -bandi name is given by the
wau. The term, bandi, is definitely more intimate than nyaV nggwail.
44 Cultural Premises relevant to
laua, but on more marked occasions, when he is greeting
him, haihng him, congratulating him or bidding him farewell,
the wau will use more elaborate forms of words. These are
known as tshat kundi.^ In its simplest forms, used, e.g.,
when a ivau is saying goodnight to his laua, tshat kundi
consists simply in addressing the laua as a pair of objects
which are ancestors of the wau's clan. The wau may say —
"You stay, coconut and areca palm, I am going to sleep."
In this phrase the palms, by the everyday words for which
the laua is addressed, are totemic ancestors of the wau's
clan.
On more important occasions the 2vau will use not a pair
of everyday words for the totemic objects but a whole string
of the personal names of some important totemic object or
ancestral hero. He will greet his laua from a distance as he
enters the village, shouting to him :
"Come, Father and Father's father, Tepmeaman and
Kambuguli, Weimandemi and Tanggulindemi, Ulakavi and
Tshugukavi, Weiuli and Weikama, Tshugutshugu and Ngga-
knggak, come. Father and Father's father. You are my
laua."^
In this speech the names are those of the Borassus palm,
which is also a fish (cf. p. 234) and an ancestor of the
Mwailambu clan. A wau who is a member of this clan might
use this series of names in hailing his laua, but there are also
many other strings of names of important ancestors of this
clan, and any of these he might use for the same purpose.
He might even use several strings of names one after the
other. Members of other clans would use the strings of names
of their special ancestors.
Most of the names which are used in tshat kundi might
also be given to sons of the wau's clan. But there are also
a few strings of names which have apparently dropped out
^ Tshat is a verb which means to "step across" something, as, e.g. in
the naven ceremonial, the hero "steps across" the women. Kundi is the
ordinary word for " mouth ", "speech ", "language ", etc. There is another
phrase for the same custom — tshivera kundi — but I do not know the literal
translation of this.
^ In this speech, I have inserted the word "and" between the names
of each pair. In the declaiming of the speech, the intonation would
give the pairing and no copula would be used.
the Wau-laua Relationship 45
of use in the naming of children and are now only used for
tshat kundi.
Sometimes tshat kundi is used by persons other than the
wau, e.g. as a device for emphasising the fact that the person
addressed is a "brother" of the speaker in the sense that
both are lauas, of the same clan. In all cases the names used
are those of ancestors of the maternal clan of the person
addressed.
Lastly, the names used in tshat kundi are chosen merely-
because they refer to important ancestors of the rriaternal
clan. The choice is not guided in any way by the particular
-awan or -bandi names which have been given to the person
addressed — except in so far as the -awan name indicates to
what clan the person's mother (or classificatory mother)
belongs.
Thus we may sum up the custom of tshat kundi by saying
that the laua is ceremonially addressed as if he were a random
collection of his mother's important ancestors.
[d) The laua dances in masks which represent the ancestors
of the maternal clan. He blows the flutes which are their
ancestors. He carves representations of their ancestors on the
house-posts which are to stand in their ceremonial house.
He carves the ancestral mwai heads (cf. Plate XXVHI b) which
are to adorn the masks of the maternal clan — the masks in
which he will later dance.
{e) The laua is entitled to ornament his body with those
plants which are totemic ancestors of his maternal clan ; and
he will resent the use of these plants by persons not so entitled.
(/) When the members of a clan sacrifice to their clan
ancestors, it is the lauas who eat the sacrifice.
A similar position is brought out with diagrammatic clear-
ness in the procedure in cases of offence against the rights of
land tenure.
The land of a clan is watched over by the angk-au. This
word means literally "potsherds" and is a term for those
spirits of ancestors which are symbolised by the old broken
sherds which lie under the house, sherds which have been
thrown away by generations of previous inhabitants of the
house. When the angk-au see any outside person violating
46 Cultural Premises relevant to
the land of the clan, e.g. planting upon it or stealing its pro-
ducts, they make a little noise in the house at night, "like
a rat squeaking". The owner of the house hears this sound
and goes out next day to see what is amiss. He finds that
somebody has planted coconuts on his land. Then he puts
ndjambwia on the ground. Ndjamhzoia may be spikes set up
to wound the foot of the trespasser, or they may be magical
objects to cause sickness of the trespasser; the same term is
used for both techniques. Later the trespasser comes and his
feet are wounded and develop sores. The angk-au will pre-
vent the healing of these sores till the offender goes to the
members of the clan who own the land. Then the offender
will kill a fowl and present coconuts to them. He will also
go to the patch of ground and will there hang up a basket of
valuables and a tamhointsha} The angk-au will take the
"soul" of the valuables and of the tambointsha; and after
a few days the valuables will be returned to the trespasser.
But the fowl and coconuts will be eaten by the lauas of the
clan which owned the ground.
(g) The laua eats his maternal ancestors. On one of the
lakes in the neighbourhood of Mindimbit village there is an
island of floating grass or sud (agwi) ; and on this a certain
crocodile lays its eggs. This crocodile has the personal name,
Mwandi-ntshin, and is an ancestor of the Mandali clan.
Members of this clan go from the village to collect the eggs.
It is said that they find as many as sixty eggs and among them
two double eggs. The ordinary eggs they eat but the double
ones are presented to their lauas, who eat them.
In this detail we have an isolated case of the laua eating
wau's ancestors. But besides this there is also a regular
ritual in which the same act is performed. This ritual is
called pwivu. The maternal clan prepare in a large bowl a
mixture containing scrapings from the bones of their ancestors
^ Tambointsha are tassels of feathers tied to string. They are symbols
of successful homicide and worn on the lime stick as a tally of the owner's
successful kills. A kill may be scored for homicide achieved by means of
ndja?nbwia, but not for homicides achieved by other magical techniques.
The act of presenting a tambointsha to the angk-au thus falls into the
same pattern as the presentation of tambointsha described on p. 99.
In both cases we may see a formal recognition of the fact that the damage
done was a legitimate act of vengeance.
the Wau-laua Relationship 47
and other curious clan relics. This mixture is eaten by the
children of the village — but especially by the lauas of the
clan whose ancestors have gone into the mixture.^
{h) Finally, when the laua dies a ceremony called min-
tshanggu is performed. A figure, which has for head the
modelled and decorated skull of the laua, is set up on a
platform which is suspended from the roof of the house so
that at a push it will swing to and fro. This platform is called
the agzvi (floating grass island) and the spectacle represents
the voyage of the ghost, on a drifting patch of floating grass,
down the Sepik River to the land of the dead. The platform
is suspended about two feet from the floor and from its edge
hangs down a fringe of strips of palm leaves, forming a screen
so that the women in the house cannot see into the space
under the platform. This fringe is called tshimbwora, the
word which is used for water in the special ritual jargon of
the shamanic spirits.
The ritual which accompanies this spectacle is divided
into two halves, the first half being performed by the members
of the dead man's clan, and the second half by members of
his mother's clan. The two halves are essentially similar, each
consisting in the singing of name songs. In the particular
celebration which I witnessed, the members of the dead
man's clan collected together in front of the agwi soon after
dusk and sang name songs till after dawn next morning. Their
clan flutes had been smuggled into the house and hidden
under the agwi. From time to time the succession of name
songs was varied by music from their flutes played by men
(their lauas) hidden under the agwi. The same hidden men
also occasionally caused the suspended agwi to swing, repre-
senting the rocking caused by waves in the water.
Early next morning the members of the dead man's clan
dispersed and in their place the members of his mother's clan
assembled. They brought with them a number of totemic
^ A more detailed account of the pwivu ritual is published in Oceania,
1932, p. 472. Among the latmul the eating of the maternal clan is
only found in these somewhat symbolic forms. But latmul informants
told me that among a neighbouring tribe, on the Sud River, it is usual
for the sister's child to eat a piece of flesh from the thigh of his mother's
dead brother.
48 Cultural Premises relevant to
objects, their ancestors — branches of trees, paddles, etc.
These they added to the decorations of the agwi, which had
already been decorated with the totemic emblems of the
dead man's clan. They also brought a hooked stick and their
own clan flutes which were substituted for the others under
the agzci. Then they began to sing their name songs and con-
tinued in this until late afternoon. During the singing, the
hooked stick was used from time to time to swing the agwi:
the members of the maternal clan overtly pulling the agwi
and the figure of the dead towards themselves.
The three premises which I have mentioned deal with
the relationships of the child to its father, mother and
maternal clan. These may be summed up in a form especially
relevant to Jiaven by saying that the child is closely identified
with its father but competes with him. The child's identity
with its mother and its link with the maternal clan are more
obscure. But here the child is not a competitor but, rather,
an achievement. of the mother; and the child's achievements
are her achievements, the triumphs of her clan.
This conclusion can be further documented from another
mortuary ritual. When a great man dies a figure is set up by
the members of his initiatory moiety to represent him and is
decorated with symbols of all his achievements. Spears are
set up to the number of his kills and baskets are suspended
from the shoulder of the figure to the number of his wives.
But no symbols are added to show how many children he has
begotten. For a woman, when she dies, a post [nggambut)
is set up and is decorated with the ornaments which were
given to her sons by the senior age grade at initiation. Her
greatness is vicarious and lies in the achievements of her
sons.
Similarly in the list of occasions which are celebrated by
naven, we find that naven are celebrated for a boy when he
takes a wife, but not when his first son is born. For a girl
naven are celebrated when she gives birth to a child, but not
for her marriage.
There is a curious myth which is probably relevant in this
connection, as showing what might happen if the naven
patterns were disregarded. In the myth naven are celebrated
the Wau-laua Relationship 49
for a man by his wife's brother and wife's father on the
occasions of the birth of both his first and second children.
These relatives present valuables to the husband and rub
their buttocks on his shin. He in return presents food to
them (i.e. the normal pattern of presentations is reversed).
After the second naven the relatives stay and stay demanding
more food, until the husband says, "There is none left."
Then they say, "You are lying." The husband said, "I am
not lying ", and when he had said that, he would have speared
the child. But his wife — it was she who speared the child.
With this clue to the general sense of these formulations,
the procedure at the little boy's first kill falls into place as
consistent with the general pattern. The boy's triumph is
the triumph of his maternal clan; therefore it is allowable
for his wau to help him in the holding of the spear. But if
this office were performed by the father we may suppose that
the kill would be claimed and celebrated by the father's
maternal clan.
Lastly, we may enquire into an apparent discrepancy in
the premises which pattern the relationship of a child to its
mother's clan. On the one hand we have details of behaviour
which indicate that the child is the achievement of the
mother and its achievements are her achievements, and on
the other hand we have details which indicate that the child
is the ancestors of its mother's clan. This, I believe, is a
problem which cannot be satisfactorily solved until we have
examined the ethos of latmul culture. In later chapters, the
association between pride and ancestors will be documented ;
and I will here overstep the strict limits of structural enquiry
by suggesting that pride is the factor which links together
achievement and ancestors, two apparently different ideas,
alike only in their emotional content.
4. That there is an element of identity between a brother
and his sister. This premise like the last is shown dia-
grammatically in the system of personal names. Siblings of
opposite sex are frequently given the same name with dif-
ferences only in gender termination (cf. p. 243). The same
formulation is recognisable in the formation of a compound
kinship term of the type to which I have already referred.
4
50 Cultural Premises relevant to
This is the term wau-nyame (mother's brother and mother),
which is used as a collective term for the maternal clan, as a
synonym in fact of the term wau-mhuambo to which I referred
above. The same identification is also indicated by the terms
used between brothers-in-law. These terms are lan-ndo for
sister's husband, and tawontu (i.e. tagioa-ndo) for wife's
brother. The term Ian means husband and the term tagwa
means wife. Thus the sister's husband is called "husband-
man", the male speaker identifying himself with his own
sister in their relationship to her husband ; while reciprocally,
the wife's brother is called "wife-man", the speaker identi-
fying wife's brother with wife. Both these terms therefore
imply the identification of the brother and sister. A concrete
example of the working of this identification may be seen in
the myth of the brother and sister who went together to work
sago, quoted above.
In this identification of siblings of opposite sex there is a
type of insistence of which we shall meet other cases later,
an insistence that the mere genealogical position is not
enough ; the identification must be made real in behaviour —
more especially in ceremonial behaviour. In the passing on of
clan names, which are given on the basis of the patrilineal
alternation of generations, a man has a right to give the names
of his classificatory and own fathers to his sons. But the
women of the clan also have clan names and a man cannot
simply take his father's deceased sister's names and give them
to his daughters.^ Before this can happen the identification
of a brother with the woman must apparently be demon-
strated in ceremonial behaviour. This is done either im-
mediately after the woman's death or after the death of her
husband or her brother :
^ This would seem to be the general sense of the statements which
I collected about this matter: one informant, however, stated that not
only the female names but also the male names must be got from the
father's sister. The case which we were discussing was one in which a
man on the day after his father's death went and cut his father's sister's
hair, "buying both his father's and her name" with a Turbo shell.
I do not know the meaning of the symbolic water into which the Turbo
shell is put; it may perhaps be a reference to the mythological origin of
these shells from the waves of the sea and a genital symbol. This piece
of ceremonial is the only context I know of in which valuables are
ceremonially given to members of own clan.
the Wau-laua Relationship 51
{a) When a woman dies, her brother will go to the corpse
and will dress her with a skirt, paint her face, and attend to
the details of her funeral. He will then say, " I am the man
who will call the names."
{b) When a man dies, his son may go to the dead man's
sister in her house shortly after the death. He puts a shell
valuable, generally a Turbo shell, into water in one of her
pots and he cuts her hair for her. The shell becomes her
property and the brother's son gains the right to give the
names to his children. (In the actual case in which this
procedure was followed, the woman had no other surviving
brothers.)
(c) When a man dies, the widow's hair will be cut and a
shell valuable presented to her in water by either her brother
or her brother's son. (In the texts in which this procedure
is mentioned there is, however, no mention of the right to
the names and it is possible that in this context the cere-
monial is merely an affirmation of the widow's membership
of the clan into which she was born but from which she has
been to some extent separated by marriage.)
{d) If a woman is left the solitary survivor of her clan,
all the names of that clan become vested in her and her bride
price becomes correspondingly great since the right to give
the names will fall to her husband or her children. In such
cases, an effort is made by the members of closely related
clans, her distant classificatory brothers, to get her as wife
for one of them, so as to retain the names within the phratry.
In this procedure we may see weak identification, based only
upon classificatory brotherhood, being strengthened by the
additional identification based upon marriage. ^
^ As might be expected from the complexity of these observances,
quarrels sometimes arise over the matter of names held by women.
I came across one dispute of this sort: The two last male members of
the Mbe clan had been killed by a raiding party some years before, leaving
only two women. An unrelated man, Tshamelwan, had provided the
food (? or valuables) for the mortuary feast for these men and on the
strength of this he had claimed — " I take the names ! " and had proceeded
to give Mbe names to his sons.
But there still remained the two women, by name Teli and Tampiam.
Teli was an old widow, with two sons to whom she had given some
Mbe names. Tampiam was a young woman.
The clan, lavo, closely linked with Mbe, therefore arranged that
52 Cultural Premises relevant to
5. That a woman is to some extent identified with her
husband. In this case we have to consider an identification
which is not reciprocal. It seems that the wife does take over
a part of her husband's status, but it seems that he takes
over little, if any, of hers : an asymmetry which is consistent
with preponderant patriliny and patrilocal marriage. In our
analysis of the naven ceremonial we shall, however, be con-
cerned only with cases of wives taking status from their
husbands ; and that only a propos oimbora (mother's brother's
wife) and tshaishi (elder brother's wife). This formulation
is not relevant to the patterning of wau's behaviour in naven.
The identification of wife with husband is in general very
little summarised in the culture. We do not find, for example,
any tricks of the naming system in which this identification
is expressed or assumed. Neither partner changes his or her
name at marriage; and, though new kinship terms may be
applied to the partners as a result of the marriage, these new
terms for the most part still discriminate between the partners.
This is true of all the marriages of closer relatives, including
all marriages of siblings of the parents and of persons who are
identified with these in classificatory terminology. The sole
exception to this among the near relatives is the use of the
term naisagut for wife's father and his wives.
But in the less important ramifications of kinship we find
that the wife is referred to by the same term as the husband,
e.g. mbuambo is the term used for mother's father and his
wives, as well as for mother's brother's son and his wives.
Similarly kaishe-ndo and kaishe-ragzva, terms differing only
in gender termination, are used reciprocally between the
parents of a husband and the parents of his wife.
In the case of tshaishi (elder brother's wife) the terminology
is interesting. She always identifies herself with her husband
Tampiam should marry Tshava (my informant), a young man of lavo,
so as to keep the Mbe names in the phratry.
No children had been born of this marriage when I was in Kankanamun
and Tampiam was still angry with Tshamelwan for stealing the Mbe
names. Lacking children, she was doing her best to reserve the names
by giving them to her pigs, canoe, etc. She also attributed her sterility
to sorcery and suspected Tshamelwan of being the cause of it.
Tshava stated that Tshamelwan repudiated this charge, suggesting that
the sterility was caused by Teli.
the Wau-laua Relationship 53
in calling his younger brother tshuambo, a term which is
otherwise reserved for younger siblings of the same sex as
the speaker. The ordinary reciprocal to tshuambo is nyamun
(elder sibling of same sex), but the husband's younger brother
does not use this term for his tshaishi, except in the naven
ceremonial.
The identification of man and wife is somewhat more
evident in everyday life than in the terminology of kinship.
As we have seen, husband and wife are discriminated in their
contacts with near kin but identified when they are dealing
with outsiders. The picture of everyday life fits with this,
inasmuch as the contexts in which we see the couple
identified are especially those in which they are dealing with
outside persons or inanimate objects. We find them, for
example, working together, sharing a house ^ and acting as
each other's agents in barter. There is a very close mutual
economic dependence between man and wife; and though
every piece of property can be defined as belonging either
to him or to her, it is almost possible to see the household
as a single economic unit. This may be illustrated by the
case of a man in Komindimbit village who had lost all his
own and his wife's property in a fire which had destroyed
his house. I asked him how he would reinstate himself and
he replied immediately, "My wife will feed up pigs and I
shall sell them". Similarly, if a wife comes without dowry
to the household, her co-wives will hold it against her, as a
reproach, that she contributed nothing to the common wealth
of the group. ^
^ It may be noted that the husband is often absent from the house and
spends much of his time in the ceremonial house with the other men.
It is not approved of in a man that he should spend a great part of the
day in his dwelling house among the womenfolk.
- At this point we may note a weakness in the argument. We shall later
regard the behaviour of mbora and tshaishi as consistent with this formula-
tion. But I am not able to document the identification of man and wife
in those contexts in which they are dealing with the husband's younger
brother and the husband's sister's son. JVIan and wife are identified
when they are dealing with outside people but it is not clear that they
are identified in those contexts which are specially relevant to the
present enquiry. The concept of context must certainly be added to that
of identification and we should be chary of using the latter term without
some indication of the contexts in which the persons are identified.
CHAPTER V
Sorcery and Vengeance
IN the previous chapter I have stated that in the latmul
kinship system there are four identifications which we
may regard as major premises of the system :
1. An identification between father and son.
2. An identification (on different Hues) between a boy and
his mother's clan.
3. An identification between brother and sister.
4. An identification between husband and wife.
The working of these premises will be illustrated in the
present chapter from material which I collected about a
special context of latmul culture, that of retribution.
In the investigation of latmul ideas about sorcery and
retribution, we at once come upon the native concept,
ngglambi, a word which we might translate into abstract
terms as "dangerous and infectious guilt". But in native
thought ngglambi is much more concrete than this. It is
thought of as a dark cloud which envelops a man's house
when he has committed some outrage. This cloud can be
seen by certain specialists who, when they are consulted as
to the cause of some illness or disaster, rub their eyes with
the white undersides of the leaves of a tree, and are then
able to see the dark cloud hovering over the house of the
person whose guilt is responsible for the sickness. Other
specialists are able to smell ngglambi and say that it has a
"smell of death — like a dead snake". It is characteristic of
ngglambi that it may "turn and go", causing the sickness
either of the guilty person or of his relatives. It is this trans-
mission of ngglambi which is relevant to the questions of
identification between kin.
As to the agency responsible for the dangers of ngglambi,
the people are very articulate and their statements fall into
four closely related groups. ^
^ There is a fifth phrasing of the matter which, though irrelevant to
the vahdity of ngglambi infection as an index of identification, is yet
interesting for the Hght it throws upon latmul sorcery. It is believed
Sorcery and Vengeance 55
{a) It is said that the ngglamhi itself causes illness and
death. This is an absolutely impersonal theory of the agentless
causation of disease and is tantamount to the statement,
which the latmul also make : that a man's sorcery will of itself
return to plague him. This type of phrasing may almost be
regarded as a euphemism for the more personal statements
which follow.
{b) It is said that the illness is caused by certain spirits,
wagan, who avenge various offences, acting upon their own
volition but generally in the interests of their clan descen-
dants.
(c) It is said that the persons whom the guilty man has
offended will complain to their clan zvagan, who will avenge
the offence. Such complaints may take various forms: in
some cases it is apparently sufficient if the zvagan hears the
weeping of his descendants; when he hears he will at once
set about avenging the injury which has been done to them.
Failing this, the offended people will beat a rhythm on the
nggambut (mortuary post) of the person whom they wish
avenged. This rhythm would be the slit-gong call (tavet) for
summoning the wagan. The latter would hear the rhythm
"and having heard it he would not forget. There would be
no talk about the matter. To-morrow the wagan would come
to smell out the ngglamhi" . Alternatively the offended people
might go to the wagan personally at a time when he possesses
his shaman. They would talk to the possessed man (i.e. to
the wagan) and pay him areca nuts and shell valuables for
his services in avenging the offence.
{d) It is said that the offended persons will themselves
practise sorcery which will cause the sickness or death of the
guilty person or of his relative. Alternatively they may pay
a professional sorcerer to do this with or without the aid
of his wagan. ^
that a cunning sorcerer will kill off victims in pairs. One of the killed will
be the person against whom the sorcerer has a grudge, while for the
other he will choose one of his own relatives — thus "short-circuiting"
the retribution and reserving to himself some choice as to which of his
relatives shall die to pay for the desired death of his enemy.
^ In this community where violent death is frequent, death by sickness
(i.e. sorcery) is not very seriously regarded. There is very little of the
almost paranoid fear of sorcery which is characteristic of many primitive
cultures.
56 Sorcery and Vengeance
In all these cases the resulting sickness may be described
as due to the ?igglambi of the guilty man. Thus the theory
of ngglambi fluctuates between a belief in the spontaneous
effects of guilt which may be "infectious" and concrete
statements that so-and-so will avenge himself either upon the
offender or upon his relatives.
In the light of this double meaning of ngglambi it is inter-
esting to see which of a guilty man's relatives are most likely
to be imperilled by this dark cloud — since we may reasonably
translate a statement, that .^'s ngglambi has caused the sick-
ness of B, into our jargon of identification: ^' A has offended
against C ; C identifies B with A and proceeds to avenge him-
self upon A by practising sorcery upon 5."
But though this would seem to be the natural interpreta-
tion of ngglambi infection, the theories of retribution contain
another emphasis which would, at first sight, seem to confuse
the issue. This is the emphasis upon the law of "an eye for
an eye and a tooth for a tooth". For example, if A magically
kills JB's wife, B will be angry and will avenge himself by
killing yi's wife. Such an exact retribution the latmul would
approve of ;^ but they would still phrase the death of ^'s
wife as due to ^'s ngglambi, although in killing the woman
B was not identifying her with her husband. But such a con-
fusion of the issue is, I think, more apparent than real. The
death of A's wife is still due to an identification of a husband
with his wife : B identified himself with his wife sufficiently
to avenge her death, and the lex talionis indicated that the
correct person for him to kill was ^'s wife. In place of the
^ In such a case, the avenger will first perform the magic in secret,
but when the woman is dead he will stand up in the ceremonial house and
proclaim what he has done and his justification for doing it. If the
lex talionis has been accurately followed, this may be the end of the
matter ; otherwise a long sorcery feud may result accounting for as many
as fifteen deaths.
As regards the effectiveness of sorcery and ngglambi in causing sickness
and death, I have adopted the native phrasing of the matter. From a
European point of view it is probable that most of the deaths in a latmul
sorcery feud are due to " natural causes " and the feud itself may be almost
fictitious. But in native belief, the deaths are ascribed to the progress
of the feud ; and the fact that the deaths do not usually follow the lex
talionis with any accuracy is ascribed to the unreasonableness of wagan
and sorcerers.
Sorcery and Vengeance 57
question " Who is likely to be identified with the guilty man? "
we have only substituted the question "Who is likely to
identify himself with the killed person?" The phrasing of
retribution in terms of lex talionis when analysed in this way
justifies us in regarding the ngglamhi infection which occurs
between two relatives as an indication that persons related
in the same manner are to some extent identified.
An additional piece of evidence which seems to corroborate
the theory that ngglamhi and lex talionis may be equated from
a structural point of view is afforded by the homonymous
meanings of the word tiggambzca. This word means on the
one hand "vengeance", in such phrases as nggatnbwa kela,
"to take vengeance" — the duty of the man whose relative
has been killed by enemies. But on the other hand the same
word is also applied to certain spirits, kerega nggambwa,
literally "eating vengeances", who after death tear the flesh
from the corpse with their long finger-nails. Thus in the
word nggambwa, as in the word ngglambi, we find a super-
natural concept mixed up with concrete ideas of vengeance.
With this preliminary examination of the native ideas
about sorcery and vengeance, we may now proceed to examine
a series of stories of sickness and death, confident that when
we find one individual suffering for the deeds of another
we are entitled to see in that fact an instance of identification
either between the guilty person and the sufferer or between
two persons related in the same way as these.
The material here presented is, strictly speaking, only
relevant in its present context for the light which it throws
upon the various identifications, but inasmuch as the stories
are also interesting from other points of view I shall give them
in rather more detail than would be necessary merely to
document the identifications.
Case I is a translation of a dictated text; but the other
stories are reconstructed out of very full notes taken during
slow narration of the stories in pidgin English or in the native
language or in a mixture of the two. I have not scrupled to
insert conjunctions and binding clauses in these texts so as
to make them more intelligible, but wherever a more im-
portant explanatory statement has been inserted, it is put in
58 Sorcery and Vengeance
parentheses. Names of the people concerned are given in
somewhat shortened form.
Case I. This is an extract from a general account of the
proceedings which would accompany the sickness and death
of a man. The account was given me by Mbana in Kan-
kanamun. It describes the procedure of divination for the
cause of the sickness :
His (the sick man's) son and wife take ashes from the fire
basin and set them in little heaps on the spathe of a palm.
There will be several heaps on the one spathe (one heap for
each relative whose offences may be the cause of the sickness).
Then they say, "What is the root of the matter? Why did
he die? Was it because his father went to other people's
wives? Was it because of the doings of his father's father
that he died?"
Then the palm spathe with the heaps of ashes is put into
a mosquito bag. The zvagan will press the ashes with his
hand. Then they take the spathe out of the mosquito bag
(and look to see which heap has been disturbed) and they
say, "Yes, it is his father's fault."
This extract would seem to indicate that ngglambi infection
comes typically down the patrilineal line and illustrates the
identification of father and son.
Case 2. In a conversation with Tshava of Kankanamun
I enquired whether lando (sister's husband) could be affected
by tawofitus (wife's brother's) ngglambi. My informant told
me that such infection would always pass to the lafido^ if he
gave food to his wife's brother, and in general that befriending
a sorcerer was dangerous because the sorcerer's ngglambi was
liable to affect those who gave him food or lodging. He said
that if any man saw another eating a particular creeper used
in sorcery, he would spread a warning: "Do not give food
to that man." But the danger is only attached to gifts of food
and not to gifts of valuables.
^ It appeared from Tshava 's remarks that though ngglambi from
tawontu might infect lando, the reverse was not the case. But this em-
phasis upon the one direction may have been due to the experiences of
his family in its relationship with Malikindjin.
Sorcery and Vengeance 59
" If you give food to a sorcerer your pig may die, or your
dog may die, or your child may die."
In illustration of this, my informant quoted the case of
his parents: his father Djuai had married Malikindjin's^
own sister, Nyakala. She was always giving food to her
brother and Djuai often scolded her for this. Because she
befriended the sorcerer "many" of her children died, and
finally she herself died. Later, Nauyambun, a very old woman,
the mother of Malikindjin, came to the house and my in-
formant was constantly sick (because of this connection with
the sorcerer).
Returning to the question of his mother's death, Tshava
narrated to me in some detail how he and Malikindjin had
avenged her:^
When Malikindjin was mourning for Nyakala he came to
me and said to me, "We will go down to such and such a
piece of bush." We went and there found a man named
Tamwia. Malikindjin said, "Now we are going to take
vengeance for your mother on this man." He told me to
hide myself and he used magic to make Tamwia unable to
see him. Tamwia was "in the dark" and Malikindjin made
him "cold". He did not cry out. Malikindjin came straight
up to him and broke his neck and head with an adze. He
killed him. He cut off his head and put in its place a head
made of nggelakavwi (a tuberous plant, Myrmecodia sp.).
He threw the real head away.
We each took an arm and hid the body in the elephant
grass. Malikindjin said, "Don't talk about this, but there
^ For a description of the personality of the old sorcerer, Malikindjin,
cf. p. 164.
* The magical incident which is here described is very closely com-
parable with one collected by Dr Fortune in Dobu. In both incidents
the informant acted as watch-dog and the magic was of the type called
"vada". In it the victim is first killed and then brought back to life only
to die later. The two stories differ in that in Dobu it is the heart of the
victim which is removed instead of the head, but I was told on another
occasion that the latmul sorcerers sometimes remove the heart. And they
differ too in this, that Dr Fortune's informant was moved almost to
hysteria in the narration of the story, whereas my informant described
the events in as cool and as detached a manner as he would have described
a magical procedure for the improvement of yams. (Cf. Sorcerers of
Dobu, 1922, pp. 158-164 and 284-287.)
6o Sorcery and Vengeance
is no fear of trouble. We are only taking vengeance." Then
I went away to work on Malikindjin's garden, and came back
to find the man Tamwia lying sick and groaning. Malikindjin
woke him up and said, " Are you asleep? " and Tamwia said,
"Yes." And Malikindjin said, " Can you see me? " Tamwia
said, "Yes." Malikindjin said, "What have I been doing
to you?" and Tamwia said, "I was asleep and you woke
me up." Malikindjin said, "Right. That is the way to talk.
Now go away."
Malikindjin also told him, "You cannot cry out with
sickness soon. You will stay awhile first", and he gave him
a date — five days thence. ^ "You cannot mention me. It is
not good for you to live in Kankanamun. You had better
die." Malikindjin addressed Tamwia by his -awan name.^
Then we went back to the village and Malikindjin said to
Djuai, "Do not wear mourning all the time, I have taken
vengeance. You can take off your mourning, or only wear
a little." The poor man, Tamwia, soon died.
After this Malikindjin wanted to teach me his spells but
I was afraid. If I paid him with valuables and they were not
enough, he might kill me. Later, Malikindjin debated the
matter in the ceremonial house. He said, "My sister is
balanced by a man. Why did you send your wagan to kill
my sister? But now we are avenged."
But Kwongu sent his tshumhuk^ (personified pointing stick)
to kill one of Malikindjin's wives and she died, and Malikindjin
killed Kwongu's wife and said, "You killed my wife, now
I avenge it. There is no reason why I should hide the matter."
Then Kwongu killed a child of Malikindjin and Malikindjin
killed the wife of laremei. laremei complained of this and
said, "Why do you kill my wife?" but Malikindjin said,
" Kwongu killed my child and you have given Kwongu food.
Why do you give him food? Now his trouble has come to
^ Among the latmul, in magical transactions when a date is fixed it is
invariably five days hence.
^ I had to ask a leading question to get this detail. But I was on
other occasions told spontaneously that the -awan name is used in ad-
dressing the victim of sorcery, or his image (cf. footnote, p. 43).
^ A tshumbuk is a pointing stick, generally a shortened spear shaft.
It is personified and the only specimen which I saw had a face worked
in clay in the middle of the shaft.
Sorcery and Vengeance 6i
you and your wife has died." laremei said, "True, I was
stupid." He did not avenge his wife's death but went away
to Timbunke village, where later he was killed in war by
natives of Kararau.
From this story we may extract the following identifica-
tions, which we may phrase in terms of ngglamhi:
{a) The passage of ngglambi from the sorcerer to his sister's
husband ; i.e. identification of a man with his sister and of the
sister with her husband.
(6) The passage of ngglambi from the sorcerer to his
mother and thence to those who befriended her.
{c) The passage of ngglambi from husband to wife {A kills
5's wife and B kills ^'s wife).
{d) The passage of ngglambi from father to son.
{e) The passage of ngglambi from the man who befriends
the sorcerer to his wife.
Case 3. My informant Tshava of Kankanamun gave me
another instance of the dangers of befriending the sorcerer.
He said that Tshe always gives food to Malikindjin and that
is why his child is always sick and many pigs have been
killed.
Once Malikindjin said, " I have had a dream. Somebody
will have to kill a pig" (i.e. he had dreamt of ngglambi or
some disaster and a pig would have to be killed to propitiate
the wagan). Then there was a debate against Malikindjin
and a number of men said, "This is to be Tshe's pig, he
is going to pay now." And they said to Tshe, "You are always
giving food to Malikindjin and now you will get his trouble."
And Djuai (Malikindjin's sister's husband) said, "Always
Malikindjin's sister caused trouble in my house, and now
Malikindjin has gone to your house and your children will
die. If anyone kills a pig you will have to pay for it" (i.e.
there was a danger that if to avoid the disaster somebody had
to kill a pig, Tshe would be held partly to blame ; and there-
fore unless he paid for the pig his children would die). But
Tshe said, " Malikindjin is my father (classificatory) ; I cannot
not help him."i
^ The avoidance between father and son, whereby the father must
never eat food produced by the son, is only observed by own father and
62 Sorcery and Vengeance
In this instance, we have a very clear illustration of the
passage of ngglamhi to a man who befriends the sorcerer
because he regards him as a "father". The man is even
expected to pay in advance for the effects of the sorcerer's
evil deeds in order to ward off the danger which will other-
wise descend upon his own children.
Case 4. This is a case of identification of husband and wife
of which I heard when collecting census material in Palimbai.
The husband had assisted the Australian government in
putting down head-hunting. He and another man had used
their influence to make the natives of Palimbai burn their
spears. Later, his wife died and her belly was much swollen.
They found a piece of a burnt spear in it. (Probably this
fragment was produced in a conjuring trick performed by
a medical practitioner.) This was regarded as proof that she
had died from sorcery resulting from the burning of the
spears.
Case 5. Informant: Gimelwan of Palimbai. A quarrel
arose between Djuai^ and Pandu over the tidying of the
ceremonial house. Djuai was sweeping the ceremonial house
and picking up the rubbish with a pair of planks. He was
cross with Pandu because he was doing nothing. Pandu
kicked Djuai and Djuai then killed Pandu " with a small stick
and broke his belly". Pandu was buried.
Lapndava, the son of Pandu, threw a spear into Djuai's
house (a gesture of anger and challenge). Djuai then pre-
sented twenty shell valuables of various sorts to Lapndava.
But the matter did not finish there. Later, Djuai's " children
died and his wife and now he is all alone" (the implication
being that the wife and children died from sorcery following
upon the quarrel).
On the other side Lenagwan, Pandu's elder brother, was
pursued by misfortune. "He curled his lip in Kankanamun"
(i.e. he sulked). He wanted to marry a woman in Kan-
father's tambinyen. It is correct for a man to give food to a distant
classificatory father (in this case, father's mother's sister's son). More-
over the taboo is relaxed when the father is very old.
^ The Djuai of this story was a man of Palimbai, not the father of
Tshava who has the same name and is mentioned in the other stories.
Sorcery and Vengeance 63
kanamun but could not. Then he went to the debating stool
in the Kankanamun ceremonial house, and called the men
out to raid Kararau, and they went out to shoot the women
while they were fishing on the Kararau lake. Lenagwan threw
his spears but killed no one and the raid was a failure. Later,
the people of Kararau organised another raid in reply and
killed three women of Kankanamun, and finally Lenagwan
was killed by sorcery done by the men of Kanakanamun
because he had organised the ineffectual raid. "Therefore
Pandu's clan is now almost finished." And my informant
mentioned two other members of the clan who had died, one
of them killed by Europeans and the other killed by sorcery.
This case contains identifications of father and son, man
and wife, elder brother and younger brother, and a vague
reference to identification based upon clan membership at
the end of the story.
Case 6. Informant: Waindjamali of Palimbai. This story
was given me in explanation of a shamanic seance which I had
recently witnessed. The seance was held to enquire into the
death of Tepmanagwan, the great man whose mortuary image
is described later (p. 154). The death was the latest result
of a feud which had started between rival initiatory grades
some four or five years earlier. My informant was a member
of grade By 4 (cf. Diagram, p. 245); Tepmanagwan was a
member of By 2 and the quarrel, which started between
Ax 3 and By 4, spread to include almost the whole of Ax
and By.
The bandi {Ax 3) called us (kamberatly By 4) out to fight.
They beat on the slit-gongs and insulted our fathers. "You
children are trash and bastards. We have played with your
mothers." Then there followed a brawl with no spears but
only sticks. We were beaten, but we said, "We will avenge
it on their children" {Ax 5). Then the other moiety made
us buy pigs and we presented them. Kumbwi (a man of
Ax i) and his brother Malishui were conspicuous in this
brawl. Kumbwi beat a slit-gong^ to call his moiety together
^ In descriptions of brawls, it is usually stated who beat the gongs;
and from Case 7 it would appear that the man who beats the gongs is
considered responsible for the brawl.
64 Sorcery and Vengeance
and carried a spear. Malishui only carried a stick. Then
Tepmanagwan came up and contradicted Kumbwi. Tep-
managwan picked up a spear with barbs (such as nominally
should not be used in brawls inside the village) and he
speared Malishui in the leg. Then all the opposite moiety
combined against Tepmanagwan, but his own moiety came
to his help and he was also helped by his classificatory laua
and his own daughter's husband. After the brawl Tep-
managwan said, "So far they have always bullied us; to-
morrow we shall fight. So far we have always used bamboo
points; to-morrow we shall use barbs." Next day there was
a brawl and Tepmanagwan was wounded " with many spears "
and that night we all scattered. I and others of the Kam-
berail grade {By 4) went to Tegowi village. Tepmanagwan
went to Malikindjin, his classificatory brother in Kankanamun.
He gave a mother-of-pearl crescent and conus disks to the
old sorcerer — and Malishui died.
Soon after that Wandem (Tepmanagwan 's younger brother's
wife) died. "Malikindjin killed her with a tshumbuk (per-
sonified pointing stick) as retribution for Malishui. He killed
her 'in return' because he was afraid they would turn the
ngglamhi back on to himself or his relatives."
Then Kumbwi wept and gave valuables to his wagan
(ancestral spirit) and said, "Ancestor, my younger brother
only has died, but they shall not stay unhurt."
Then two sons of Tepmanagwan died, one of them while
he was away as an indentured labourer.
Then there followed five other deaths. ^ I tried to get
information as to the exact relevance of these deaths to the
feud, but my informant dismissed the matter, "They are not
straight. They only turn about. That is Malikindjin's way."
Finally Kumbwi gave a mother-of-pearl present to his
loagan and Tepmanagwan died ; and in the seance enquiring
into his death the zcagan (i.e. the shaman in a state of
^ Probably most of the deaths in this sorcery feud were due to in-
fluenza. But we are here concerned, not with the theories of European
medicine, but with those of the latmul. In general no deaths are regarded
by the latter as "natural" but all are referred to sorcery. Even when a
man is killed by the enemy, his relatives will suspect that some sorcerer
in the village has sold the dead man's soul to the enemy before the raid.
Sorcery and Vengeance 65
possession) produced this mother-of-pearl crescent and said,
" This is the shell that killed Tepmanagwan ", and he smashed
it against the post of the ceremonial house as a sign that that
feud was finished.
This case contains first of all an example of solidarity
within the initiatory moieties, but the ties between laua and
zoau and between son-in-law and father-in-law are given
preference over allegiance to the moiety. In the sorcery feud
we have identifications of brother and brother, of younger
brother's wife and husband's elder brother, and of sons and
father.
Case 7. This is the story of a long sorcery feud in Kan-
kanamun which was given me by my informant, Tshava.
As in the case of the similar feud in Palimbai, this series of
deaths had its beginning in a quarrel between initiatory
moieties :
A boy was playing the Pan-pipes in the junior ceremonial
house and a woman, lalegwesh, came up outside the house.
The boy said, " Come up. I want to see your sore."^ She
went away but later came back to the junior ceremonial house
and shouted, " My windjimbu,^ I want to see you." Then the
boy hid and went to his house. Later lalegwesh was heard
playing the Pan-pipe tunes on a jews' harp, and the boy came
with others and scolded her. She said, "What, do you think
I don't know the Pan-pipe tunes? Mwaimali (her husband)
taught me them." A senior man, Katka, overheard this and
was angry. He went off and told the other men and chased
lalegwesh with a stick. He found some men beating on a
suspended log.^ He said, " Stop doing that. A woman has
exposed all our secrets." Then Djindjime beat a summons
on the slit-gong and all the men came together. They went
and raided lalegwesh's house and broke her pots; but her
brothers came to her assistance and there was a brawl between
them and Katka. At first they were many and he was only
^ An obscene metaphor for female genitals.
^ The various secret sound-producing objects, flutes, Pan-pipes,^ etc.
are regarded as connected with the wood spirits or windjimbu. There are
many stories of women who have had love affairs with windjimbu.
^ This is a junior analogue of the wagan slit-gongs, an initiatory secret.
The tunes for the Pan-pipes are also secret.
66 Sorcery and Vengeance
helped by the small boys (of the junior ceremonial house).
Katka fell in the brawl and then others came to his assistance.
His eye was broken.
Next day Malikindjin came and saw Katka's eye and asked
what had happened, Katka said, "We had a brawl." Mali-
kindjin said, " Why ? " and Katka said, " About men's things "
(i.e. initiatory secrets). Then they debated the matter and
Malikindjin took the side of lalegwesh and Mwaimali. He
said, " Somebody will die from this trouble." Later, he sent
his tshumbuk (personified pointing stick) and killed Kwongkun.
On the day after this death, some young men came home
from indentured labour with their boxes full of trade goods.
Malikindjin went to the ceremonial house and demanded a
box of trade goods from the labourers. " I have been looking
after your women while you were away. You must pay me
one box." The boys paid him, but they said, "That box
will eat up a man later,"
The box ate Katka (i,e. Katka died of sorcery because it
was against him that lalegwesh had needed Malikindjin's
help). Katka's death was avenged on loli and his younger
brother, Kwilegi, who had helped lalegwesh. These two died
in one night (this was probably during an influenza epidemic).
Later, Katka's wife died to balance Kwilegi. Then the wagan
said, "Who else helped Katka?" and Djindjimowe died, and
to balance him Kisak.
Then the wagan said, "Who beat the slit-gongs?" and
Djindjime died. Finally lalegwesh died, killed by Mali-
kindjin's spells. The old sorcerer was acting on both sides.
The beginning of the trouble lay with her and that is why
she died, and they all said, "That talk is finished. It is
done with,"
But later Mwaimali, lalegwesh's husband, married Kagan,
the widow of Katka, and she bore him a child. Then Mali-
kindjin's wagan, Tshugu, said, "Yes, at first a woman made
trouble and Katka died. Now you have married Katka's
wife." Then the child died.
Then Mwaimbwan, a member of Mwaimali's clan, said,
"This affair was done with long ago, but now you want to
start it again " and he caused a child to die on the other side.
Sorcery and Vengeance 67
Finally there was a seance. Malikindjin went into a trance
and Tshugu (speaking through Malikindjin's mouth) called
upon all who had been concerned in this feud to kill a big
pig to finish the feud. He asked for the names of all who had
taken part in the original brawl on each side, and told the
members of both sides to contribute valuables. A pig was
bought and killed and the various tvagan (in their shamans)
and all the men ate it. After the feast all the wagans took the
bones of the pig and they made a hole close to the ladder of
the ceremonial house and there buried them, at the sug-
gestion of Tshugu; and they said, "If any man raises this
feud again, he shall die."
But later Malikindjin fell sick.^ That is because everybody
wants vengeance upon him. All who know anything about
spells and all the wagan, they are all agreed.
In this story the following identifications are recognisable :
{a) Identifications based either on sex solidarity or on
membership of initiatory moieties (cf. the case quoted on
p. 99, in which a woman was detected spying upon the
flutes).
{h) A woman's brothers side with her, giving precedence
to that allegiance over their identification with their sex or
moiety.
{c) Those who help the offending woman suffer, including
a pair of brothers.
{d) Katka's wife dies from her husband's ngglamhi.
{e) Finally the marriage of Mwaimali to Katka's widow
provides such a tangled position that it is not clear whether
the child that was born to this marriage died because of
lalegwesh's sins or those of Katka.
Case 8. Tshava of Kankanamun told me the following
story about the death of two of his father's wives, Mait and
Undemai :
Two of Malikindjin's wives, Mwaim and Lemboin, were
quarrelling. Mwaim said, " Djuai (my informant's father) is
^ He died about four months later. I enquired about the burying of
the bones of the pig and was told that this was not a customary pro-
cedure, but was done simply at the wagon's suggestion.
68 Sorcery and Vengeance
always playing^ with you." Malikindjin heard of this and
fetched help from Tegowi village to avenge himself on
Djuai ; and there was a brawl in Kankanamun. Later, Djuai
killed a big pig and gave it to the men of Palimbai, inviting
them to come and kill lowimet, a native of Tegowi who was
settled in Kankanamun (lowimet and Malikindjin were classi-
ficatory brothers). But lowimet fled to Tegowi and they
only destroyed his property and stole his shell valuables.
Later he came back and wept for his things. He had a string
bag, a melo shell, a Conus shell necklace and a Turbo shell.
These he gave to Malikindjin. Malikindjin said, "Why do
you give them to me? " lowimet said, " I am crying for my
things. They have killed my pig, etc. I want one of their
women to die." Then the two of them agreed on a day — " on
this day we will meet in the bush".
On the date, they met and they waited for Mait (Djuai's
wife) at the place called Tungwimali on the river bank. When
she came they lied to her and said, "There are crocodiles'
eggs here ", and when she came ashore they killed her —
killed her completely and revived her. She went back and
told my father (Djuai), "It was those two who killed me.
They lied about crocodiles' eggs and I went ashore." Djuai
only heard what she said and then she died. Djuai wept for
her and called upon his wagan, Tshugu.^ He said, " I am the
only one who is weeping. They are untouched. Later they
must cry too." Then Tshugu killed Mwaim, the wife of
Malikindjin.
Later there was a seance and Tshugu possessed Malikindjin
and spoke addressing Malikindjin, "You, my shaman, why
are you mad and kill all the women? Now they are taking
vengeance. My clansman called on me and I came and killed
the woman. One of your wives has died. Later somebody
belonging to lowimet shall die." Then Yivet, lowimet's
daughter's husband, died. Then Malikindjin and lowimet
started again and killed Undemai, another wife of my father.
Then it was all balanced.
^ A euphemism for copulation.
^ This was the wagan which possessed Malikindjin. My informant
explained that when Djuai called upon Tshugu it was only the spirit
who heard, not the shaman.
Sorcery and Vengeance 69
But lowimet did spells on an adze and found one of my
footprints. He hit the ground with the adze and then wrapped
up the adze in nettles and put it in a pot and made it hot on
the fire. My sore hurt me and I cried out. Then lowimet
put a little water on the adze and cooled it, and my sore was
cooled. This went on till I took a Turbo shell and my wife
carried it to lowimet. Then lowimet said, "You have paid
me and later the sore will dry up." It dried a little, but the
doctor (i.e. the Government medical official) took me up to
Ambunti (to the Government hospital). The doctor said,
"Why is the sore so big?" And I said, " It is only lowimet."
The doctor said, "What was the quarrel about? " And I said,
" It was my father's quarrel, but it is not right for the son
to help his father."^ Then the doctor sent a police boy to
get lowimet and asked him, "Why did you hurt this boy?"
lowimet said he did not know, and the doctor said, "Tshava
has told me. Why are you lying? "
lowimet was nearly put in prison, but he is my (classi-
ficatory) wau. The doctor asked me if I was sorry for him
and I said "Yes", and the doctor said "Never mind" and
dismissed the matter.
In this story the following identifications occur:
{a) Malikindjin and lowimet; brother with classificatory
brother.
{b) Malikindjin and Mwaim; husband and wife.
{c) Djuai and Mait ; husband and wife.
{d) lowimet and his daughter's husband.
{e) Djuai and Undemai ; husband and wife.
(/) Djuai and Tshava; father and son.
{g) And finally Tshava " is sorry for " his classificatory wau.
Case 9. This story was given me by Tshava of Kankana-
mun. It describes the vengeance of the wagan upon a medical
practitioner who interfered in their affairs and demanded no
payment for his services :
Mongwaevi, the wagan of Yivom's clan, had told him to
kill a fowl, but Yivom said, "Why should I? When should
^ Cf. the taboo upon the father's eating any food grown or prepared
by the son.
yo Sorcery and Vengeance
I? " and refused. Then the zvagan turned and made Yivom's
small son sick, and Tengai, a man with some knowledge of
spells, cured him. But the wagan said, "It was not his
(Tengai's) affair. It was a case of which people had said * he
is going to die', but that man Tengai used spells."
Then the wagan made Tengai's wife sick. The people said,
"Yes, they paid Tengai nothing for his'spells and he did not
ask for pay (i.e. inasmuch as he had not been paid it was not
his business to interfere)." Punpunbi's daughter said, "It
is witches" and "Yivom's folk will not stay untouched. Our
zvagan will look at them. It is their ngglambi." Punpunbi
agreed with her daughter's opinion and she summoned her
husband Tengai and was cross with him. She sent him away
from her; though before that they had agreed well enough
together. For a long while they did not summon the wagan,
but finally they called for Mongwaevi's shaman who went
into a state of possession and the zvagan demanded areca
nuts from Tengai. Only then, after the presentation of
areca nuts, did Mongwaevi clear the road to the land of the
dead. The soul had wanted to go before but Mongwaevi
(in spite) was closing the road. The woman was terribly sick
but could not die. Then she died.
In this case Yivom's original offence against Mongwaevi
is first avenged upon his child (identification of father and
son) ; then the ngglambi passes to Tengai — an example of the
danger of helping those with ngglambi. Then from Tengai
the ngglambi passes to his wife.
Case ID. This story was related to me by Tshava of
Kankanamun. I have rearranged the story so that the
sequence of events may be clear :
Atndjin married a woman named Tshugwa, and later she
helped him to marry her younger sister, Wama, by con-
tributing to the bride price valuables which she had got by
breeding pigs. My informant told me that it is quite usual
for an elder sister to help her husband to marry her younger
sister.
Later Atndjin died, leaving the two sisters as widows.
According to custom they should have become wives of
Sorcery and Vengeance yi
Atndjin's younger brother, but this did not occur. A man
named Tshuat of Jentschan wanted to marry the elder sister
and finally took her to Jentschan, but Malikindjin wanted
her and sent his tshumbuk (personified pointing stick). Tshuat
saw the tshumbuk in a dream and was frightened, so he let
her go. Malikindjin took her and married her and paid a
bride price to Atndjin's younger brother. Then Malikindjin
said, "When the younger sister marries I shall get part of
the bride price — as much as the elder sister contributed —
never mind about a pig — or if there are not enough valuables,
let them pay a pig."
But the various husbands of the younger sister endeavoured
to dodge this payment. First a man named Tevwa took her,
but he became sick and was frightened of Malikindjin and
sent her away. For a while she remained unattached till
Tshaunanti took her. But his other wife died because of her ;
Malikindjin sent his tshumbuk because the pay was inadequate.
They said, "Tshugwa's things (i.e. valuables) have eaten up
your wife." Then Tshaunanti sent her away. Then Mbulm-
buangga married her, but his child by a previous wife died
because he did not kill a pig for Malikindjin. Though his
child had died he still did not pay the sorcerer. Malikindjin
was an old man and Mbulmbuangga said, "He is no good
any more. He used to be a hot man, but he is no good any
more."
In this case we see first a husband, Malikindjin, identifying
himself with his wife and on that ground demanding recom-
pense for valuables which she had expended. Later, we see
the offences of successive husbands of the younger sister
being avenged (i) on the husband himself, (2) on the hus-
band's other wife, and (3) on the husband's child by a
previous wife.
Case II. This is a story which was told me by Tshava
of Kankanamun. The story is irrelevant to the question of
identifications with which we are immediately concerned, but
it is of interest, after this series of feuds, to cite a case in
which a man killed his wife and afterwards received homicidal
ornaments from her relatives :
ya Sorcery and Vengeance
Laindjin killed Tualesh, his wife. She was a member of
Wolgem clan and (therefore) my (classificatory) sister.
Tualesh went to get water in a long bamboo. When she
returned Laindjin said, "Why were you so long? " She said,
"I was not long. What are you thinking?" Laindjin said,
"I was only asking," and she said, "Other men don't ask,
but you do. You are jealous." Laindjin said, "Yes, I know
how women carry on." Then he jumped up and seized the
water bamboo and bashed her with it and she died. They
made incisions in her skin with a bamboo knife and used
spells, but they could not cure her. Then Laindjin
wept.
The members of Wolgem clan heard of it and we said,
"Our sister is dead." Then we took spears and went to
Laindjin's house. He had blocked the entrance (probably
with a mat) and was inside. Then we flung many spears at
the house and Laindjin's brother's son was wounded, but
not killed.
We presented tamhointsha (homicidal tassels), black paint
and Crinum leaves to Laindjin and he killed a pig for the
wagan and the other men, but we did not eat it; it was our
sister's pig.
Later, Laindjin said, "This woman did not die without
a cause. Malikindjin killed her." And he called for Mali-
kindjin and said, "Let us fight with spears." Malikindjin
fixed a day, "the day after to-morrow I shall come at mid-
day." Malikindjin brought a big bundle of spears and said,
"Have you dreamt of me? Did I kill the woman?" and
Laindjin said, "Yes. I sent my tshumbuk (to investigate).
The tshumbuk woke me up and told me — ' Malikindjin killed
her for no reason. The woman had no ngglambi. She was
not killed by many men. It was only Malikindjin'." Then
Malikindjin said, "Come on, let us fight," and Laindjin
said, "I am waiting for you. Then we shall fight to-
gether."
The two fought hard and their lanoa (sister's husbands,
etc.) tried to hold them back but they could not. Then
Laindjin was wounded in the hand and the lanoa managed
to hold him.
Sorcery and Vengeance 73
In compensation 1 for the death of the woman Laindjin
paid one mother-of-pearl crescent, one tortoise-shell arm
band, two Conus shell necklaces and three Turbo shells, in
a string bag which was hung up in the Wolgem ceremonial
house.
This series of stories contains about forty identifications,
but such a series is by no means sufficient to give any estimate
of the relative frequency and importance of the various types
of identification. The series serves only as a set of illustra-
tions of the working of identification in these contexts. It is
worth remarking, however, that a rather larger series of
stories, properly documented with their kinship setting,
would give enough identifications to call attention to the
factors which influence the distribution of identification.
^ It is not clear whether the presentation of homicidal ornaments pre-
ceded this compensation or followed it. In other cases, it appears that
the homicide pays compensation before the relatives give him tambointsha.
CHAPTER VI
Structural Analysis of the Wau-laua Relationship
WE have seen that the term "mother" is used for
mother's brother in the naven ceremonies. This use
is not confined to this ceremony; it occurs too in
initiation, and to some extent in ordinary conversation. Thus
certain male natives who regarded me as their classificatory
** sister's child " on the basis of a matrilineal name which had
been given to me, used occasionally to refer to themselves
as my "mothers" when stressing their kinship connection
with me. One of them would even say to me : "You are the
child that we bore." ("We " here refers to the maternal clan.)
At other times informants would refer to the clan, whose
matrilineal name I bore, with such a phrase as: "They are
your mother."^
Thus it is clear that identification of the mother's brother
with the mother is very definitely formulated in the termino-
logy, and from the linguistic usage we may expect to find
that the relationship with the whole maternal clan is coloured
by the relationship to the mother and that the resemblance
to a mother is most strongly marked in the case of a wau.
But we need not expect to find that the whole of a mother's
brother's behaviour can be described as the behaviour of a
male mother.^ I mentioned above that a man is to some
extent identified with his father, and we may expect to find
that this identification has some eff^ect on the mother's brother
relationship. The laua may be to some extent identified with
his father, and in this case we shall find the wau behaving
towards him as if he were the wau's sister's husband. We may
therefore expect the wau's behaviour to fall into at least two
categories according as he is acting upon the brother-sister
^ The language has no plural form for nouns so that it is not certain
whether the word "mother" in this sentence should be plural or singular.
* In this analysis I am much indebted to RadclifFe-Brown's classic
paper on the Mother's Brother {South African Journal of Science, 1924,
P- 542).
Structural Analysis of Wau-laua Relationship 75
identification and treating the laua as a mother would treat
her child, or upon the father-son identification and treating
the laua as a man would treat his sister's husband.
The same considerations apply, mutatis mutandis, to the
behaviour of the laua, who may therefore be expected to treat
his wau both as a mother and as a wife's brother. Lastly
it is possible that the wau-laua relationship has features which
are due to other identifications which we have not considered,
or that the relationship may have certain features sui generis.
Thus we are led to an experimental analysis of the wau-
laua relationship under the three following heads :
1 . Behaviour which is typical of the relationship between
a mother and her child.
2. Behaviour which is typical of the relationship between
a wife's brother and a sister's husband.
3. Other details of behaviour which do not fit either of
these patterns.
By working with these three categories we shall be able to
set out all the available information about the wau-laua rela-
tionship in a scheme which will show clearly how much or
little of a wau's, and laua's, behaviour is to be regarded as
sui generis and how much is based upon these identifications.
I. The latmul mother's behaviour towards her offspring
is simple, uncomplicated by self-contradictory elements such
as characterise the patterns of a father's behaviour. Her acts
and attitudes may be seen as built up around one central
cultural act; she feeds the child, first suckling^ it and later
giving it food. It is evident too from the behaviour of the
wau that the act of giving food is regarded by the natives as
in some sense the essential characteristic of motherhood.
The food so given is a free gift for which the child makes
no concrete return, but the mother is anxious lest the child
go hungry and she is compensated for her care by her joy
in the growth of the child and her pride in its achievements.
^ It may be objected that the suckling of the child is a "natural" and
not a "cultural" act. But at least it is an act which is included among
the norms of latmul culture and which has no doubt been culturally
modified in many ways. We are justified in regarding the suckling of the
child, from a structural point of view, as one of the given facts of latmul
culture.
76 Structural Analysis of the
The tone of her pride is well illustrated by the incident in
the naven in which the homicide marches over the prostrate
and naked bodies of his "mothers" and they say: "That so
small place out of which this big man come ! " The attitude
is one of humbleness and abnegation of self in pride and joy
at the achievement of the oflPspring. Lastly we have the
behaviour of the mother as comforter of the child ; she stops
its crying and stays beside it in sickness; when the child is
too sick to eat, she herself will go without food.^ I'he position
of the mother may thus be summed up under headings of:
food-giving, pride and self-abnegation, comforting.
These aspects of the mother's position are clearly stressed
in the behaviour of the wau. We see him as food-giver:
I have already mentioned that there is a continual stream of
ceremonial gifts of food flowing from the zvau to the laua.
At small naven ceremonies, a fowl, but on more important
occasions, a pig, will be presented. We may regard these gifts
as analogous to the constant feeding of the child by its mother.
It is articulately stated by the natives that the wau is anxious
lest his laua be hungry. A small boy is brought up to believe
that unless he is careful how he asks his wau even for a single
yam, his wau will exclaim with exaggerated anxiety, "What!
Is my laua hungry?" and jump to his feet and run to kill
his pig and present it to the boy.
We see the wau combining self-abnegation with pride in
the boy's achievements: The attitude of vicarious pride is
daily exemplified by the wau's hailing the boy with a series
of names of outstanding totems of the maternal clan, and
more dramatically, whenever the laua makes a conspicuous
public appearance, e.g. in debate, by the wau's throwing lime
over him. Again the attitude of pride is dramatically com-
bined with modesty and self-abnegation in the navefi cere-
monies when the wau wears filthy female garments, shaming
himself to express his pride in his laua. Indeed, even at this
stage of our enquiry we may conclude that a great part of
^ I have no evidence that this detail of a mother's behaviour is carried
over into the behaviour of the wan, but in a certain stage of the cere-
monies of initiation, the term nyame (mother) is applied to the elder age
grade, and during this period the members of this grade observe food
taboos with the novice.
Wau-laua Relationship 77
the wau's behaviour in naven is an exaggerated statement of
this particular aspect of maternity, the mother's self-abnega-
tion combined with pride in the boy. But many details of
the naven still remain to be accounted for — especially the
element of burlesque in the wau's, behaviour and the waus
offering of his buttocks to laua.
We see the wau as a comforter in the ceremonies of initia-
tion. At this time he is called "mother" and he actually
behaves as a comforting mother to the little boy during the
grim first day of initiation when the child is separated from
his real mother and undergoing scarification. The waus first
act in initiation is to lift his laua pick-a-back — the manner
in which mothers often carry their children — and carry him
to the upturned canoe on which the scarification is to be
performed (cf. Plate Vb).
During the operation the zvau sits on the canoe, and the
little boy sits at first in his wau's lap while the incisions are
made around his breasts. After that the boy lies with his
head in his zvau's lap and his back exposed to the knives of
the initiators. The cutting of the back is much more painful
than the preliminary cutting of crescents round the breasts
and the little boy screams and clutches as hard as he can
with his arms round his "mother's" waist. When he screams
the wau will say, "Don't cry," and grasps him, holding the
boy still and at the same time responding to his frantic
clutches. When the cutting is at last finished, the wau again
takes the child pick-a-back and carries him to a pond where
the blood is washed off. Then the wau carries him back to
the ceremonial house where he soothes the boy's cuts with
oil gently applied with a feather (cf. Plates X, XI).
Turning now to the reciprocal behaviour of the boy towards
his wau we can trace again points in which it is modelled on
the type of his behaviour to his mother. In the attitude
towards the mother there is a strong emphasis on loyalty:
I have already published^ an incident in which a son inter-
fered in a quarrel between his mother and her second hus-
band. The husband had lost his temper and beaten the woman
seriously with fire sticks. Her son entered his stepfather's
^ Oceania, 1932, p. 286.
78 Structural Analysis of the
house and took her away and lodged her in his own house
for several days. This same emphasis on loyalty is brought
out in the behaviour towards mother's brother. Whenever
a quarrel starts in which his wau is involved it is said that
the boy should take his wau's, side, even if the quarrel is one
in which his father is opposed to his mother's brother.
The same loyalty is emphasised in matters connected with
esoterica — spells, mythology, etc. (cf. p. 37).
As a complement to the wau's pride in the laua's achieve-
ments, boasting is developed in the latter. He will swagger
in his ivau's presence and will say with great gestures:
"I am the big man of this village!" "I am the house-post
which supports this village ! " But at the same time he will
not swagger overmuch, and especially he must not insult his
wau, lest the latter jump up and rub his buttocks on the
laua's shin. In the easier relationship between a boy and his
mother, this boasting behaviour is not conspicuous, and its
development in the wau-laua relationship is probably corre-
lated with the generally exaggerated character of the wau's
behaviour.
In this exaggeration, the behaviour of the wau differs from
that of a mother. She gives food easily to her child, but when
the wau gives food he either presents pigs in a ritual context,
or jumps up, and, with a histrionic gesture, kills a pig in
response to the laua's demand for a yam. The mother carried
the small child on her shoulders because that was a con-
venient way of carrying it; when the wau carries the boy
pick-a-back, the act is an incident in the ceremonial of
initiation when the boy is grown and well able to walk. The
mother may smile easily at her boy's achievement, but the
wau is impelled at least to throw lime over him. In every
instance the behaviour of the wau is an exaggerated and
dramatic version of that of the mother. The formulation of
the social identity between a man and his sister, between wau
and mother, may be a sufficient explanation or description
of the resemblances in the behaviour of these two relatives,
but the elements of burlesque and exaggeration in the wau's
behaviour still remain to be explained.
2. We may now consider the patterns of behaviour typical
of the relationship between a man and his sister's husband
Wau-laua Relationship 79
and the extent to which these patterns are adopted by the
wau. The chief characteristic of the brother-in-law relation-
ship among the latmul is a mutual ambivalence about the
fact that one man has given his sister to be the wife of the
other. A feeling of mutual^ indebtedness and distrust is
culturally expected, and a considerable bride price is given
to the brothers of the bride by the husband. Although this
transaction is phrased as waingga (purchase), a considerable
quantity of valuables are loaded on to the wife's body by her
brothers when she goes to her new home and these valuables
are a return presentation to the husband. The natives say
quite articulately that the purpose of the bride price is "to
prevent the wife's relatives from using sorcery against the
husband", and they say that this resort to sorcery will be
staved off only for a limited time by even the biggest bride
price. The sense of indebtedness therefore remains and the
wife's relatives have always the right to call on the husband
for help in any task, like house-building, for which a crowd
of manual labourers is necessary. When the task is completed
the wife's people will stand a small feast for the labourers
or they will at least distribute coconuts to them. This largess
is of the nature of a complimentary presentation and is
usually quite inadequate as a payment for work done.
But the brother-in-law relationship is ambivalent; it is
characterised not solely by indebtedness and distrust but also
by co-operation. In many cases the bride's brother takes an
active part in the arrangements for the marriage. He may
assist his friend, the future husband, in his courtship by
putting magic in his sister's fireplace to cause her to fall in
love ; and finally he may lead her by night from their house
to that of the bridegroom. On arriving there, the man and
his sister are ceremonially received by the future husband.
The girl's brother is made to sit on a stool while the future
husband puts oil on his face, cuts his hair and finally puts
valuables on his shoulder.^ Next morning the village wakes
to find the marriage a fait accompli.
^ Cf. the quarrelling between wife's fathers and husband's fathers,
described on p. 105 ; Kwoshimba versus Kili-mali.
* Note that the ceremonial acts performed by the future husband are
the same as those performed by an offender in making amends to the man
he has offended (cf. p. 98).
8o Structural Analysis of the
In many cases too the opposition between brothers-in-law
is treated lightly and used as a subject for joking. If a man
is idly watching his tawontu doing some job, the latter will
say merrily enough, "Watching your tawontu} 1 am not that
sort of man. You should see me help my tawontus." It is
probable too that the opposition between brothers-in-law is
reduced to a minimum in those cases in which the relation-
ship between them is symmetrical, based upon an exchange
of sisters. But no native statement was collected to this
effect.
Even without this exchange there is an insistence that a
man should be loyal to his wife's brother — a feature in which
this relationship resembles that with the mother and the
mother's clan. Indeed, we find here the same type of precept
which we noted in the relationship to the mother's clan — in
this case, that a man should support his wife's people in all
their quarrels, even against his own clan. In this respect
then, father and son are alike in owing absolute allegiance
to the same clan, and the insistence upon loyalty to the wau
may be phrased as consistent both with identification of that
relative with the boy's mother and with the identification of
the boy with his father.
When a quarrel arises between a man's maternal clan and
the clan into which he has married, he should either stand
up between the disputants and stop the fight, or hold his
peace. In general, these precepts are to be regarded as state-
ments of what a man ought to do rather than as statements
of what is usually done. But I have on several occasions seen
men intervene in brawls in the ceremonial house. Unfor-
tunately I never examined the kinship ties between them and
the disputants. At such times I was myself anxious lest some
serious damage might be done which would call down the
wrath of the Government upon my village and perhaps
deprive me of the services of valuable informants. I pre-
sumed that the motives of the peacemakers were a product
of modern culture contact and fear of the Government, It
never occurred to me, even though I knew the precepts, that
such kill-joy conduct could be culturally normal to the latmul.
Besides the insistence upon loyalty, other aspects of the
Wau-laua Relationship 8i
brother-in-law relationship are taken over into the wau-laua
relationship. A husband gives valuables and labour and re-
ceives a wife — and these gifts are tied together by a sense of
indebtedness. This uneasy economic aspect of the brother-
in-law relationship has been taken over into the pattern of
the wau-laua relationship. We saw above that the wau makes
considerable presentations of food — especially pigs and fowls
— to the sister's son. But these gifts — unlike the corresponding
food gifts of the mother — prompt the boy to a sense of
indebtedness, and he makes in return presentations of shell
valuables to his wau. Actually in many cases the boy has no
wealth of his own with which to recompense his wau and it
is the father of the boy who provides the shells for the pre-
sentation, a fact which illustrates the identification of sister's
husband with sister's child most vividly in the present con-
text. Stated from the wau's point of view : he presents a pig
to his sister's son and his sister's son and his sister's husband
combine their wealth to make a return present of valuables.
Lastly we may consider the extraordinary conduct of the
wau in presenting his buttocks to his laua. Such conduct is
of course not characteristic of a mother, but I have a casual
mention in mythology of a man who rubbed his buttocks
on the leg of the man who was marrying his sister. If we
bear in mind the identification of a man with his sister, this
conduct is comprehensible — at least from a structural point
of view. The man expressed his relationship to his sister's
husband by ritually making a sexual gesture in which he
identified himself with his sister. In the case of the wau, the
position is more complicated, but his behaviour becomes
perfectly logical if we think of the two identifications upon
which it is based. For the sake of clarity we may state these
identifications as if the mother's brother were speaking, viz.
" I am my sister " and "My nephew is my sister's husband."
If now we consider these two identifications simultaneously
it is perfectly "logical" for the wau to offer himself sexually
to the boy,^ because he is the boy's wife.
^ I should perhaps stress the fact that this interpretation of the wau's
gesture is my own and is not based upon native statements. It is con-
ceivable that the gesture may be symbolic of the birth of laua from wau,
a further stressing of the maternal aspects of the wau's position.
82 Structural Analysis of the
This last piece of analysis may seem to be fanciful, but the
evidence goes to show that there is some such process of
logical symbolism underlying this piece of ritual. Upon this
hypothesis the zvau's exclamation : " Lan men to! " " Husband
thou indeed!"^ becomes immediately understandable. Lastly
the fact that the wau^s sexual gesture is said to act as a strong
stimulus to make the laua run to get valuables in order to
present them to his wau is explained if this presentation is
really in some sort a bride price.
But although the structural position of the wau is such that
his actions in the naven ceremony can be described as its
logical development, we still do not know why the culture
should have followed up this line of logic. Why should the
culture have followed these various identifications to their
ultimate reductio ad absurdum, a wau offering himself sexually
to his laua} Such formulated identifications between a man
and his sister and between a man and his father can be traced
in many primitive communities, but even the simpler ele-
ments of the naven ritual — the wau dressing as a woman,
etc. — are comparatively rare in such societies; and such a
phenomenon as the wau's sexual gesture is perhaps only to
be found in the Sepik area. We must therefore conclude that
while the structural position lays down possible lines along
which the culture may develop, the existence of such lines
does not explain why the culture should select them for
emphasis. We have demonstrated the existence of the lines
but we have still to demonstrate the "motive force" which
has caused the culture to run along them.
3. Lastly we have to consider the various points in the
waw's behaviour which cannot be described by saying either
that the wau is a male mother of the laua, or that the laua is
the sister's husband of the wau.
^ The evidence from this exclamation is, however, not as strong as its
hteral translation would indicate, since the words, lan men to, are also
constantly used as an expression of submissiveness, a demand for com-
passion and a cry of surrender. The phrase can even be used in addressing
a female oppressor and is then modified to "lain nyin to". (Nyin
feminine, second person, singular pronoun. The modification from lan
to lain is, I think, not expressive of change of gender but merely
"euphonic".)
Wau-laua Relationship 83
{a) The wau will not take fire from the laud's house. If
the fire goes out in his own house, the wau will, it is said,
go and light his cigarette at the laua's fire and from the
cigarette will light his own fire, but he will not take a burning
fire stick from the laua's fire. This type of avoidance is more
typical of the boy's father, who, as I have mentioned, will
never under any circumstances eat of food collected by his
son — fire and food being closely analogous in latmul thought.
It would appear that the wau's avoidance of taking fire
from his laud's house is perhaps structurally described by an
identification of the wau with the lauds father; and this is
the more probable since the complete series of taboos on
eating food collected by the boy is applied to the father's
tamhinien. The tambinien is a partner and the behaviour
between tatnbiniens is modelled upon the same general lines
as the reciprocal co-operation between men who have ex-
changed sisters. Thus it is not surprising to find that a
similar identification obtains to some extent between simple
brothers-in-law.
{b) The wau resembles a father in another point; like a
father he avoids entering upon crudely commercial trans-
actions with his laua. But it is not perfectly clear that this
resemblance between the two relatives is due to an identifica-
tion between them and not to some coincidence whereby
diflFerent causes operate upon the two relatives to induce
superficially similar behaviour. In the case of a father, the
avoidance of commercial relations with the son is, no doubt,
a part of the general avoidance of profiting at the son's
expense. In the case of the wau, I was told that the avoidance
is specifically connected with the fact that this relative has
received a part of the bride price paid for the lauds mother ;
but I do not know why this fact should make it uncomfortable
or unfitting for a wau to trade with his laua ; nor do I know
whether commercial transactions occur between brothers-
in-law,
{c) Another usage may doubtfully be referred to the same
identification : when a laua performs some service for his wau
he is spoken of as the latter's " dog ". I do not know exactly
what details of the relationship between wau and laua are
84 Structural Analysis of the
here equated with what details of the relationship between
a man and his dog ; but it is worth remarking that the owner
of a dog is ordinarily spoken of as its "father".
{d) I have already described the series of details of be-
haviour which seem to equate the laua with the ancestors
of the maternal clan and suggested that this equation is based
on a similar orientation of pride towards ancestors, lauas and
achievement.
{e) The behaviour of the wau is exaggerated. It is not a
mere copy of that of a mother or brother-in-law, but is a
sort of burlesque of the behaviour of these relatives. This
element of burlesque must for the present be described as
peculiar to the wau relationship and not as derived from any
pattern of identifications.
Ill
From the foregoing analysis it follows that we may sum up
the principal characteristics of the wau'?. position by means
of a diagram (Fig. i). In this diagram the genealogical position
of wau and laua is shown and three arrows ^re drawn repre-
senting the three identifications on which the behaviour of
wau and laua is based. Arrow I marks the identification of
wau with his sister, according to which wau will behave as
a mother, and the laua will behave as a son towards a mother.
Arrow II marks the identification of the laua with his father
according to which wau will treat laua as if he were a sister's
husband and laua will treat wau as if he were a wife's brother.
The combination of identifications I and II is the basis for
the wau's treatment of laua as if he were a wife.
Arrow III marks the identification between wau and laua's
Wau-laua Relationship 85
father, according to which wau will behave as if he were
laua's father, and laua will behave as if he were waus son.
Since this last identification is much more problematical than
the other two and since I have no record of any behaviour
of the laua, which would fit this pattern, I have indicated
this identification with only a dotted line on the diagram.
Our experiment has shown that almost the whole of the
wau's cultural behaviour can be analysed in terms of two
identifications. Of the details which remain unaccounted
for, some can be referred to a third identification but a
few still defy analysis in these terms. We still do not know
why the wau's behaviour tends to be exaggerated and comical,
why the laua is regarded as the ancestors of the maternal
clan, and why this culture has followed the logic of its
identifications to such extreme conclusions. These problems
must be left for solution in terms of aspects of latmul culture
other than the purely structural.
CHAPTER VII
The Sociology of Naven
HITHERTO we have confined ourselves rigidly to what
I have called the Structural point of view. We have
put ourselves in the place of a hypothetical intellect
inside the culture and have shown that to such an intellect
the behaviour of wau and laua in the naven is in some sense
logically consistent with the other given facts of the latmul
culture. But in the present section we shall consider the
naven from an entirely different point of view, that of an
observer outside the culture and interested in the integration
and disintegration of latmul communities. We shall consider
only those aspects of naven which are relevant to the well-
being of that abstract unity, the Society as a whole. This shift
of viewpoint involves a complete re-orientation towards the
culture and a complete re-phrasing of our problems.
The fundamental problem with which we are now con-
cerned is : Does the naven have any effects on the integration
of Society? This problem I shall modify by making an
assumption of a type not unfamiliar to anthropologists. It is
evident that the naven ceremony is an expression and a
stressing of the kinship link between the wau and laua con-
cerned, and from this I shall assume that by this stressing
the link is strengthened. ^ In the light of this assumption,
the problem of the sociological functions of naven becomes :
What effects has the strengthening of this link upon the
integration of the Society as a whole ?
To answer this question we shall have to ask many sub-
sidiary questions, and the form of these will contrast sharply
with the form of the subsidiary questions which we asked
in our structural enquiry.
'^ This is not a sociological assumption but refers to a process of psycho-
logical conditioning of the individuals concerned. The question of its
validity should therefore be examined not in the present chapter but in
a chapter devoted to the study of character formation among the latmul,
a subject which I did not investigate in the field.
The Sociology of Naven 87
At the outset it appears that a sociological enquiry should
be documented with statistics, a method of treatment which
would have been excessively awkward in the study of cultural
structure. At the most, the only statistical questions which
could have been relevant to our structural enquiry would
have taken the form : " How many details of behaviour imply
so-and-so?" But in the present section, the whole phrasing
of the problem being different, the type of statistical question
which we shall ask will take the general form: "How many
individuals do so-and-so?" a form of question to which
answers could have been collected in the field. ^
If we consider a simple example from our own culture this
difference in the framing of the statistical questions will be
clear: Fathers beat their children. This fact could be struc-
turally investigated and it could be shown that the beating
of children was consistent with other details of the father-
child relationship; and this consistency would be equally
demonstrable though our note-books only contained re-
ference to one case of child-beating. But if we are investi-
gating the same fact from a sociological point of view we shall
need statistics. We may guess that the beating of children
is important for the general maintenance of order in Society.
But to demonstrate this function conclusively we need sta-
tistics which will answer questions of the general type, "What
percentage of such and such individuals do so-and-so?"
Specifically in the present instance we shall want to know :
1. What percentage of fathers beat their children?
2. What percentage of beaten children in later life go to
prison for riotous behaviour?
3. What percentage of unbeaten children later go to
prison? Etc. etc.
From this example we may deduce that the emphasis of
the sociological questions is likely to be, not "How many
details of cultural behaviour. , . ?" but rather "How many
individuals . . . ? " Further, it appears that we must expect
^ Unfortunately I have no statistics and took no random samples. The
conclusions of this chapter are therefore unproven. The chapter itself
is only included for the sake of giving an illustration of the problems
and methods of approach of sociology in the strict sense of the word.
88 The Sociology of Naven
in a sociological enquiry to be concerned with classes of indi-
viduals— "beaten children", "unbeaten children", "fathers
who beat", etc. In fact, it will be our business to classify,
not details of behaviour according to their implicit assump-
tions, but individuals according to their behaviour.
Returning to the problem of nave^i which I stated above in
terms of the sociological importance of the link between wau
and laua, one fact now stands out as likely to be a clue to the
position : it is the classificatory waus who perform naven.^
The relevance of this fact becomes clear when we examine
the marriage system of the latmul and the patterns of be-
haviour between groups of individuals who are linked together
by marciages in past generations.
In many primitive societies we find marriage regulated in
a positive manner by kinship. Not only are there prohibitions
of marriage with certain relatives, but also positive injunc-
tions which constrain a man to choose as wives women who
are related to him in some specific manner, real or classifica-
tory. Under such systems the links of affinal allegiance and
indebtedness are regularly renewed in succeeding generations.
But in latmul society this is not the case. (Lacking statistics
I must here substitute a description of the marriage system
in formal terms.) The culture does, it is true, contain a great
many formulations which would regulate marriage in a posi-
tive manner if they were consistently obeyed. We find for
example such statements as :
I . "A woman should climb the same ladder that her father's
father's sister climbed", i.e. she should enter, as a bride, the
house which her father's father's sister entered. This is a way
of stating that a woman should marry her father's father's
sister's son's son (or reciprocally that a man should marry
^ This is certainly the case in Palimbai and Kankanamun. But the
position in Mindimbit is probably rather different. In the only naven
which I studied in detail in the latter place, the naven for a girl who had
caught a fish, it was the own waus who took part. In Palimbai the naven
for a boy who had made a new canoe was performed by classificatory
waus and it was in Palimbai that I was told that a man has two sorts of
tawontu, those who receive a share of the bride price of the man's wife
and those who will celebrate naven for the man's children. It is possible
that the sociological functions of naven in Mindimbit differ profoundly
from those I have suggested for Palimbai and Kankanamun.
The Sociology of Naven 89
his father's mother's brother's son's daughter, or iai.^ Such
a marriage rule if carried out consistently would lead to a
repetitive system and the affinal links would then be renewed
in every alternate generation. But the rule is not so carried
out and we find other conflicting formulations.
2. "The daughter goes as payment for the mother." This
is a way of stating that a man marries his father's sister's
daughter ; and this practice again would lead if it were con-
sistently obeyed to a repetitive system,^ and one which,
though conflicting with the iai marriage mentioned above,
is still generically connected with it in a curious way.
This generic relationship between the two systems is illus-
trated in the diagram, Fig. 2. The marriage between A'^
^ Cf. Oceania, 1932, p. 263. There is a second cliche which defines
iai marriage: " Laua's son will marry wau's daughter." This refers to
marriage of a man with his father's mother's brother's daughter, a relative
who is also called iai. This cliche was collected both in Mindimbit and
in Palimbai, while the clichd referring to the ladder was collected only
in Kankanamun. It is possible that in Mindimbit the sociological function
of naven is the promotion of marriage between laua's son and wau's
daughter. Thus the naven becomes a "device" not for perpetuating
affinal links which would not otherwise be repeated in the community,
but for bringing about their repetition. I have, however, no statistics or
native statements which would support this theory.
* Cf. Dr Fortvme, on Kinship Structure, Oceania, 1933, pp. 1-9.
Among the latmul, however, this type of exchange is not strictly
confined to the regulation of marriage. In certain cases, when the off-
spring of the marriage are male instead of female, one of the sons will
be sent, while he is still a baby, for adoption into the family and clan of
the man who gave his sister to the father for wife, i.e. the boy is adopted
by his mother's brother, to whom he goes as payment for his mother.
90 The Sociology of Naven
and 6'$ is an iai marriage which repeats the original marriage
(^ (^ = 6 ?) in the grandparent generation. The difference
between the iai system and the father's sister's daughter
system turns on whether the marriage, jc $ = Y^, occurs in
the intervening middle generation. If this marriage occurs,
the whole system is converted into one based upon marriage
with the father's sister's daughter, and the final marriage,
A'(^ = b'^, becomes a marriage of a man with his father's
sister's daughter. The introduction of this intervening mar-
riage is linked with a new formulation:
3. "Women should be exchanged." This is more usually
stated by the natives in reference to sister exchange — a man
giving his sister as wife to the man whose sister he himself
marries. Such a formulation, stated in this way in terms of
sister exchange, of course conflicts with either iai marriage
or father's sister's daughter marriage. But the fundamental
concept of the exchange of women is common to both sister
exchange and marriage with father's sister's daughter. ^
Thus latmul society is built upon three formulations in
regard to marriage which though they conflict are still inter-
related in a curious logical manner. The father's sister's
daughter marriage is comparable with the iai marriage since
both fit into the same pattern of repetitions in alternate
generations, and the sister exchange is comparable with
father's sister's daughter marriage since both depend upon
the exchange of women.
This discussion of the marriage rules was introduced to
show that the society is without any regular repetitive system
whereby the affinal links might be regularly renewed. I have
elaborated the description somewhat more than is necessary
in the present context because the cultural details here given
^ It is quite likely that the marriage with father's sister's daughter has
been evolved in the culture through interaction of the two systems, iai
marriage and sister exchange. The whole kinship vocabulary would point
to the iai system as the older, and the concept of exchange of women may
well have been adopted from neighbouring peoples. In this connection
it is interesting that one of the young men whom I used as an informant
had a strong impression that the correct term for father's sister's daughter
was iai. But after we had discussed the matter in detail, he was uncertain
and consulted one of the older men who stated definitely that na was the
correct term for this relative.
The Sociology of Naven 91
will also be relevant in a later chapter. We shall see that this
society constantly dovetails together ideas which are incom-
patible and that there is perhaps something in common
between the muddled logic which underlies the naven ritual
and that on which the rules of marriage are based. In the
discussion of the totemic system, we shall see (p. 128) the
capacity of the natives to take a pride in the schematic quality
of their system, although actually that system is riddled with
incompatibilities and fraud. In their marriage rules too the
natives take a pride and they look down on their neighbours
as "dogs and pigs who mate at random".
This gibe is singularly inappropriate in the mouths of the
latmul, since not only have they three positive marriage rules
which conflict one with another, a circumstance which would
in itself introduce a random element into their mating, but
the people do not adhere even to their negative rules. These
negative rules are very vague, but there is a strong feeling
against marrying own sister and I never collected a case of
marriage of this kind. The next strongest ban is that upon
marriage with any of the relatives called naisagut (e.g. wife's
mother), and I found a case in which a man^ had sufficient
standing in the community to marry his own wife's own
mother and this while the wife was still alive and married
to him. He was a great sorcerer and at the same time a great
debater and fighter. It was nobody's business to say him
nay in this individualistic culture. Such marriages are rare —
even among the latmul — but when we turn to the less strin-
gent prohibitions, as of marriage with classificatory " sisters ",
women of own clan with whom genealogical connections can
easily be traced — we find that such women are sometimes taken
as wives. When I enquired into these marriages, I was generally
answered with a cliche : " She is a fine woman so they married
her inside the clan lest some other clan take her," The latmul
even rather approve of these endogamous marriages and say
that from endogamy are produced long and widely rami-
fying lines of descendants — a belief, the sociological and
cultural significance of which is not at all clear to me.
Occasionally, however, the members of a large clan,
^ This was Mali-kindjin, of whose character a sketch is given on p. 164.
92 The Sociology of Naven
apparently realising that they are becoming too endogamous,
proceed to formulate a statement that one half of the clan
belongs to the bows of the clan war canoe and the other half
belongs to the stem. Henceforth these two groups are re-
garded as separate clans for purposes of marriage and what
is, in a sense, really endogamy is satisfactorily phrased as
exogamy.
Marriages with classificatory "mothers" are also not un-
common.
Lastly, besides these endogamous marriages, there are
many marriages with outside groups — with women captured
in war, or sent as peace offerings, women met on trading
expeditions, etc. So that we may sum up the marriage system
by saying that in practice marriage occurs very nearly at
random; and when we consider that the villages are very
large, with a population ranging from two hundred to a
thousand, it seems unlikely that an important affinal link will
be perpetuated by analogous marriages in future generations.
If therefore these old affinal links are necessary for the
integration of the community, some means must be found of
diagrammatically stressing them, a function performed by
naven.
It remains for us to consider whether these linkings are
really important and how they are used in the integration of
society. In this connection the most significant fact is that
the formulations of proper behaviour towards affinal relatives
can be applied in this culture not only to own wife's own
relatives and to own sister's husband's relatives, but can be
extended to a whole series of relatives who are grouped around
this central nucleus in a classificatory manner. Such funda-
mental principles as the identification of siblings, the identi-
fication of a man with his father and with his father's father,
and the grouping of whole clans as single units, are applied
in this extension of affinal relationships. But it would not be
true to say that the affinal linkages due to every marriage
are extended indiscriminately in every direction according to
this scheme of identifications.
The formulations of proper behaviour contain such pre-
cepts as that a man should be loyal to his wife's relatives and
The Sociology of Naven 93
should help them in the work of building their houses and
their ceremonial houses ; he should help them pull their canoe
logs, clear their gardens, and he should come to their assist-
ance in all their quarrels. If all affinal linkages were observed
no one would be able to quarrel with anyone else inside the
community, and everybody would have to go everywhere
and do everything with everybody else, since the genealogical
links are actually ubiquitous.
One need only spend a very few days in a latmul village
to realise that there is no such thorough integration of the
population as this complete and indiscriminate extension of
affinal ties and duties would imply. Quarrels are not rare
and whenever a large group of workers is required for some
great labour such as house-building or repairing the cere-
monial house, it is difficult to get the men together and diffi-
cult to get them to co-operate. But in the end the groups
can be got to work and such co-operation as is achieved is
certainly made possible by the insistence upon affinal ties
which extend in a perfectly definite manner along certain
chosen lines of the classificatory system.
There are two main types of extension of the affinal
system and various collective terms are applied to the ex-
tended groups so formed. The two commonest terms are
lanoa nampa (literally "husband people") and laua nyanggu
(" sister's-child children" — the word "children" in this con-
text being no more than a synonym for "people").
The term lanoa nampa is strictly most applicable to the
group formed by the first type of extension of the affinal
system. This is the group of persons whose affinal relation-
ship results from some definite contemporary marriage, and
it contains such relatives as : sister's husband (lan-ndo), sister's
husband's brother (lan-ndo), sister's husband's father (laua)
and sister's husband's son (laua). Thus, when the relation-
ship depends upon a recent marriage, the term Ian is extended
to include various lauas. (The reciprocal collective term for
relatives of the wife is towa-naisagut.)
In the second type of extension of the affinal system, the
relatedness of the groups is traceable to a past marriage, but
the reality of the connection between the groups is demon-
94 The Sociology of Naven
strated by the naven system. In this type of extension, the
more correct term for the group, which contains the relatives
of the former husband, is laua nyanggu (though the term
lanoa nampa is sometimes used). Reciprocally, the group
containing the relatives of the former wife is called zvau nyame
nampa. Thus the term laua is here extended to include classi-
ficatory sister's husbands, the reverse of the usage mentioned
above in which the term Ian is extended to include sister's
children.
A
B
cf = $ 9 = cd*
^=*$ H ^cf ^?=^c?
E cT {lam of Cd) "^ D<^ {laua of b6)
Figure 3.
The natives are perfectly conscious of the genealogical
process upon which the formation of this laua group of
relatives depends, namely, the perpetuation of past marriages.
There is a native proverb which says: "Legs of a Caryota,^
legs of a Pandanus; women hither, women thither." The
Pandanus and the Caryota are alike in having visible aerial
roots diverging downwards to the ground from the trunk;
and the meaning of the proverb is that diverse groups are
tied together by affinal bonds due to past marriages of pairs
of sisters. The genealogical pattern of the spreading of these
links is represented in the diagram. Fig. 3.
Two sisters of clan A get married. One of them marries
into clan B and the other marries into clan C. Their offspring
^ This identification is uncertain. I should rather have said "a species
of palm which looks like a Caryota" but this phrase could hardly be
inserted into the proverb.
The Sociology of Naven 95
are regarded as classificatory siblings although the children
of the one woman are of clan B and those of the other of
clan C. In this filial generation, the girls will again marry
into other clans, e.g. the girl of clan B marries a man of
clan E, and the girl of clan C marries a man of clan D. The
grandchildren from the original marriages will again regard
themselves as classificatory siblings. The members of what
is now the middle generation will become classificatory
"fathers", "mothers", "mother's brothers" and "father's
sisters " of these children : so that owing to the original mar-
riage of two sisters of clan A it has come about that a man in
clan B has a laua in clan D and a man in clan C has a laua
in clan E.
But though the term laua nyanggu may be applied to all
these classificatory lauas and even extended to apply to their
fathers and other members of their clans, a man will take
steps to mark out his relationship to the laua groups whose
allegiance he especially desires^ and he will demonstrate that
he really is a wau by giving, to the baby laua, a name of
which the termination means "mask". This gift of a name
is accompanied by the gift of a coconut and it is followed in
later years by the whole naven sequence. The zcau will make
it his business to remind the laua constantly of his relation-
ship ; whenever he meets the boy he will address him by the
name which he gave him, he will exclaim at the laua's achieve-
ments and he will present the laua with meat. The laua will
give return presents of valuables to the zvau, and will come
and work whenever the wau is gathering all his lanoa nampa
and laua nyanggu for some heavy work in house-building or
clearing a garden.
These two types of afiinal relationship were even more
clearly defined by one informant, in Palimbai, who explained
to me that he had two sorts of tawontu (wife's brother). Of
these relatives, one kind were "the men who had received
a part of the bride price he gave for his wife ", i.e. the members
of his wife's clan of her generation. The other series were
^ Unfortunately I did not collect any material bearing on the circum-
stances likely to influence a wau in his choice of one classificatory laua
rather than another for this recognition.
96 The Sociology of Naven
" tawontu who would celebrate naven for his children ". Thus
the bride price serves as the defining factor in the relation-
ship with one group of affines, and the system of naven and
names given by the maternal clan serves as the defining factor
in the other case,^ By the combination of these two ^ systems,
the community is so knit together that it can accomplish
great architectural works and warfare.
It may be asked why the culture should preserve these old
afHnal linkages by stressing the resulting classificatory wau-
laua relationships rather than by stressing the corresponding
classificatory lando-tawontu relationships — and this in spite
(5f the fact that the latter would seem, to a European, to be
the simpler and more direct. The answer to this question is,
I think, to be found in the fact that the actual system fits
with the remainder of the culture, e.g. with the naming
system in which waus give names to their lauas. In fact, the
answers to questions of this type are to be sought not in
sociological terms but rather in terms of the cultural structure.^
The reality of the integrating effect of naven might still
be doubtful if the latmul communities were limited in size
by some factor other than the weakness of their internal
integration. It is conceivable, for example, that a community
whose size was limited by its physical environment would
never reach that size at which every contributory integrating
factor becomes relevant. But actually, in latmul culture, it is
^ The informant who defined this position was, I think, somewhat
more definite in his statements than the actual facts of the culture justify.
In many cases a child's own mother's brother will give it a name ; and it is
likely that there is some variation in these respects from one village to
another.
* There is a third type of extension of the affinal system which is
important in the integration of ceremonial and architectural undertakings
in the ceremonial house. This is the relationship between certain pairs
of clans which regard each other reciprocally as lanoa nampa or laua
nyanggu — both terms are used — and who do a great deal of work for each
other. This relationship is reciprocal between clans and apparently depends
not upon any particular present or past marriage, but upon a tradition
that the women of the one clan often marry the men of the other and
vice versa. The relationship finds ritual expression on various occasions,
especially in mortuary feasts, but is never, I think, marked by the naven
system. This clan relationship is practically without effect outside the
ceremonial house.
' Cf. Epilogue, p. 269, where another type of answer to this question
is suggested.
The Sociology of Naven 97
clear that the factor which limits the size of the villages is the
weakness of their internal cohesion. The larger villages are
continually on the point of fission, and the fissions which
have taken place in the past are always ascribed to quarrels
which have split the parent community. More than this,
these fissions when they occur invariably follow the lines of
the patrilineal groups — a clan, a phratry or a moiety splitting
off from the parent community and thereby rending the
system of affinal linkages. From this pattern of cleavage it
is evident that the patrilineal linkages are stronger than the
affinal, the latter presenting as it were a plane of weakness of
the community. Under these circumstances the importance
of any factor which strengthens the affinal links becomes
apparent and we are justified in saying that the villages could
not be as big as they are if it were not for naven ceremonies
or some analogous phenomenon.
The phrase, "some analogous phenomenon", might well
denote a mechanism entirely different from the naven, one
even which did not rely for its effect upon the stressing of
the affinal links. The integration of society might for example
be built up by the attachment of all the individuals to some
chief, their allegiance to whom would then be strengthened
by ceremonial of some quite other pattern. Equally, the
same sociological function might be achieved by any of the
mechanisms which enforce codified law.^ Indeed the
sociological position of naven is hardly comprehensible to a
European until he has some picture of how a society works
without either officials or codes of law.
The latmul are, fundamentally, a people without law. By
^ Malinowski has stated in the Introduction to Hogbin's Law and Order
in Polynesia that an analogue of our own "law" may be found in all
cultures, and this is no doubt true if we take a sufficiently abstract view
of the matter. But we should not lose sight of the fact that the only
resemblance between the European legal system and such a system as
that of the latmul lies in their widest sociological functions. We may,
for example, say that a system of codified law, or a strong chieftainship,
performs in higher cultures many of the functions which vengeance
performs among the latmul. But in a functional study we cannot afford
to ignore the mechanisms involved — equating jellyfish with fish because
they both swim. To the writer it seems that there is a very profound
contrast between peripherally oriented systems such as that of the latmul
and centripetal systems such as those of Western Europe.
98 The Sociology of Naven
this I do not mean that they have not customs and sanctions,
but that they have no codified law and no estabHshed
authority which might impose sanctions ex officio or in the
name of the community as a whole. It is a general principle —
though one not stated as a generalisation by the natives them-
selves— that no considerable sanction, i.e. no fine, damage to
property or physical injury, is ever imposed upon an indi-
vidual by the group (clan, moiety, initiatory group, or village)
of which the individual is himself a member; neither is any
considerable sanction ever imposed within the group by a
superior authority representing that group or by any out-
standing man in the group. In general such internal sanc-
tions confine themselves to disapproval, insult and abuse,^
In the absence of such sanctions, internal or imposed from
above, the ordering of latmul society is almost entirely de-
pendent upon what we may call external or lateral sanctions.
The tendency of the people is to phrase every oflFence as an
offence against somebody and to leave the business of inflicting
sanctions to the offended people.
In its simplest forms the system works thus : A offends B.
B avenges himself with weapons or sorcery. Alternatively B
may produce such a show of anger and power or such a shower
of abuse that A, either frightened or ashamed, will pay some
sort of compensation in shell valuables, pigs or areca nut.
B will then formally accept this compensation, either stepping
on the pig, standing while A puts the bunch of areca nuts
on his shoulder, or permitting A to cut his hair, oil his face
and otherwise decorate him. In some cases, B will finally
make a presentation of some sort to A.
This phrasing of the matter in individualistic terms is, as
^ The only exceptions to this rule are : {a) Cases in which an outstanding
member of the group will recommend the offender to compensate an
offended person outside the group. Such recommendations may be angry
and vociferous but they remain mere recommendations and are in no
sense a decision of the dispute by constituted authority. The outstanding
man speaks as one who is concerned in the dispute and who may be
seriously involved if the quarrel grows. He is not an impartial outsider.
(6) Cases inside the family group. Here the husband has authority over
his wives ; if two wives are jealous he may beat them both. Father has
authority over son and elder brother over younger brother. But this
pattern is confined to the family itself and is not repeated in the larger
groups or in the society as a whole.
The Sociology of Naven 99
we have already seen in the chapter on "Sorcery and Ven-
geance", to some extent obscured by the phenomena of
identification whereby, when A offends B, the resulting
quarrel is taken up by their relatives, fellow clan members,
or members of the same initiatory groups. But always the
offender expects his own people to be active on his side and
the quarrel remains one between two peripheral groups, never
taking the centripetal form which we might phrase as " Rex
or State versus So-and-so". Such a form is indeed pre-
cluded by the considerable feeling which exists in the latmui
community against any participation of outside persons in
quarrels which do not concern them.^
The whole mechanism of latmui sanctions differs so pro-
foundly from our own, that I must illustrate it with examples :
1 . My informant, Tshava, of Kankanamun, was a man of
about thirty-five. The following incident occurred when he
was a small boy : Another boy, Tshaguli-mbuangga, had been
stealing Tshava's things from his house. Tshava complained
of this to his own father. The father watched for Tshaguli-
mbuangga and when he saw him enter the house he gave a
signal to Tshava. Tshava then killed Tshaguli-mbuangga
with a spear. His father helped him.
In Tshava's account of the matter there is no mention of
any annoyance on the part of the murdered boy's relatives,
but this no doubt occurred. In any case Tshava presented
valuables to them. He states that he paid : One Turbo shell,
one mother-of-pearl crescent, one tortoise-shell arm band,
and one necklace of small Conus shells.
The relatives of the boy whom he killed presented a
tambointsha, i.e. a tassel, to Tshava. This he will later exhibit
on his lime stick (cf. Plate XXIVa) as a symbol of successful
homicide. But as yet his initiatory grade have not been
promoted to the wearing of this type of ornament.
2. While I was in the village of Komindimbit watching
initiation ceremonies, a woman, a visitor from another village,
was detected spying upon the flutes from a Malay Apple tree
up which she had climbed. I heard a lot of shouting in the
ceremonial house and dashed to the scene. I found a number
^ Cf. Case 9, p. 69.
100 The Sociology o/Naven
of men jumping about with sticks in their hands while others
remained quietly sitting on the platforms. The active angry
group were the members of the moiety B, especially Bx 4
and By 4 (cf. Diagram, p. 245). These were the groups which
had just paid for the privilege of seeing the flutes and there-
fore the offence was regarded as specifically against them,
not as against the whole group of men of that ceremonial
house. One man of moiety A did, it is true, give a many-
pronged spear to a member of moiety B, saying, "Go on,
spear her ! " But this was the only part they took in the matter.
A party of the angry young men dashed off with sticks in
their hands to search the village for her. But they returned
without beating her — I think they could not find her. The
remainder of the group contented themselves with dancing
and jumping about in the ceremonial house with sticks and
spears.
Finally the members of moiety A quieted them and per-
suaded them to accept compensation. The two leaders or
nambu wail (literally "heads of crocodiles" — an initiatory
grade is called a "crocodile") oi Ax 4 and By 4 accordingly
stood while bunches of areca nuts with valuables attached
were placed upon their shoulders. The valuables were: two
mother-of-pearl crescents and two Turbo shells. These would
later be used in buying a pig for some feast.
3. While I was in Kankanamun a scandal occurred in the
mbwole or junior ceremonial house. A man named Wi-ndjuat-
mali saw, in the middle of the night, a couple copulating
there. He identified them as T. and T.'s wife. It was none
of Wi-ndjuat-mali's business because he belongs to the group
B 4 and therefore is a member of the big ceremonial house
and has nothing to do with the mbwole which belongs especially
to the groups Ax 5 and Ay 5. But there is a great deal of
rivalry between the moieties A and B and it is possible that
Wi-ndjuat-mali, as a member of B, took a certain malicious
pleasure in telling the A group of the misfortune which had
overtaken their mbwole. In any case Wi-ndjaut-mali told a
member oi A $ what he had seen and the latter immediately
told the rest of ^ 5. T., the culprit, was himself a member
of this group and thus it came about that a row was pre-
cipitated inside the group A 5.
The Sociology of Naven loi
^T, was summoned by means of the slit-gong in the mbwole
but he did not come. Nothing was done till the evening.
Then the gong was beaten again and T. came. Then they
debated against him: "Why did you copulate in our mbwole}
You have made us 'cold'. One and all we are utterly bad;
and never again shall we be all right. Another time if you
stay in your house (not answering the gong) we shall go up
into it and beat you there. We shall put spells upon your
wife so that she runs away to another man."
Then T. said, "Make Wi-ndjuat-mali come quickly. They
are joking; they are lying against me." But Wi-ndjuat-mali
said, " It is no lie, it is true."
Then they said, "Your wife — we will kill a pig (and pay
for it) with her property. We are children with no property.
When the elder grade call for a pig, we will kill it with his
property.
"She is not a woman who copulates with a small vulva.
Her secretions have spilt in our mbwole. And she is a preg-
nant woman too. Yes. The semen that you have ejaculated
will cover up the child. They will have to scrape the child
when it is bom."^ And so on.
A deaf and dumb man also took part in this debate and
expressed himself in noises and gestures with great force ; but
his remarks were untranslatable.
Of the various speakers against T. in this debate, all were
members of moiety A with the exception noted in the text
of Wi-ndjuat-mali (B 4) who spoke only as a witness. Most of
the speakers were members of ^ 5, but one or two men who
were half-promoted from A 5 into A 3 also spoke. The
debate went on far into the night.
A few days later I asked some questions about the incident.
To my question, "Why did T. and his wife use the mbwole
when they had a house of their own?" I received the reply,
"He and his wife had a long love affair before they were
married. They used then to use all sorts of places and so they
still go on doing the same thing."
^ The following is a translation of a dictated account of this debate.
Explanatory phrases not in the original have been inserted in brackets.
' Whenever this happens it is suggested that the parents failed to keep
the taboo on copulation during pregnancy.
102 The Sociology of Naven
To my question, "Are they going to kill one of T.'s pigs
or take any of his property? " the reply was " No. Of course
not. He is a member of their own initiatory group."
This last statement was the crux of the matter and the lack
of any punitive mechanism was due simply to this fact. But
such cases in which no sanction can be applied are com-
paratively rare. The situation was exceptional owing to the
whole scandal being connected with the mbzvole where only
one of the two moieties A and B is represented and where also
the moieties x and y are not sharply pitted against each other.
Had a corresponding outrage been committed in the big
ceremonial house the resulting row would probably have been
between the moieties A and B, the various grades of each
moiety taking sides against the opposite moiety. Other types
of segmentation might, however, have occurred in the big
ceremonial house. The building is subdivided among the
various clans and the moieties x and y. Thus the oifence, if
it occurred in a particular part of the ceremonial house,
might have been phrased as an offence against a particular
clan, or as an offence of x against y.
4. While I was in Palimbai a quarrel broke out in a house
which was shared by two classificatory brothers, Koulavw^an
and Membi-awan (cf. Genealogy). Both of these brothers
were married, but the wife of Membi-awan had recently borne
a child which she was suckling. Membi-awan was therefore
unable to sleep with her. Koulavwan went away for one
night to trade with a bush village leaving his wife, Kaindshi-
mboli-agwi, behind in Palimbai. On his return, the following
afternoon, he was told by his mother Kapma-tshat-tagwa and
the other women of the house that Membi-awan had gone
in the night to Kaindshi-mboli-agwi's mosquito bag.
It appears that what actually happened in the night was
as follows: Membi-awan went to Kaindshi-mboli-agwi's bag,
opened the end of it and put his hand in and there felt her
head. She woke up and shouted and Kapma-tshat-tagwa came
out of her bag to see what was the matter. Membi-awan then
hid among the pots in the house ; but he was identified.
This led immediately to three more or less separable
quarrels :
The Sociology of Naven 103
{a) Between the two classificatory brothers Koulavwan and
Membi-awan. Koulavwan took his complaint to the village
"Tultul", a native appointed by the Government to act as
an interpreter to the District Officer. This official heard what
both parties had to say but did nothing about it. Membi-awan
^D
1-0+
-Of
II
^D
CM-
II
04'
Of
r- '^^KWOSHIMBA
\)
KANDAM-NOWE
(my informant)
— *^ WOLI-YIMBANG
II
CH-
^WOMPUR-NDEMI
II
0+ lAVTAGWA
. o+Kj\Jndshi-mboli-agwi
•Of KAPMA-TSHAT-TAGWA
r-"0
KILI-MALI
'^ KOULAVWAN
Of- MWAINDSHl-NYAUT
Of NAUA-RAGWA
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U MEMBI-AVWAN
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claimed, in an attempt at self-justification, that he had that
day seen Kaindshi-mboli-agwi give a betel leaf to her sister's
husband, Wompur-ndemi, and that his visit to her mosquito
bag was in order to verify that his brother's wife was being
faithful. This excuse was brushed aside. She said, "You
wanted to copulate with me. Now you are lying."
104 -^^ Sociology of Naven
Koulavwan insulted Membi-awan, saying, "Yes, when we
went to work for the white man, you were only a cook^
but I worked.'*
(b) Between Koulavwan and his wife. He beat her "be-
cause she had not herself come and told him, but had waited
till Kapma-tshat-tagwa told". She tried to placate him by
saying, "My husband never copulates with other people;
I am going to be like that. My husband is straight and I am
the same." Further, she pointed out that she had expected
something of the sort to happen and had asked the litde girl,
Mwaindshi-nyaut, to come and sleep with her in her bag for
protection.
But my informant, her classificatory brother, said to Kou-
lavwan, " Go on and beat my sister ; she ought to have hurried
up and told you." So Koulavwan beat her.
(c) This quarrel between Koulavwan and his wife had
reverberations in another family : Kili-mali, sympathising with
Koulavwan, started to beat his own wives and children,
saying, "They were all asleep. They ought to have heard
what was happening."
These three quarrels apparently died down before night
and all the persons concerned went to bed as usual.
But, in the middle of the night, Koulavwan got up, angry,
out of his mosquito bag and went and jumped on Membi-
awan's bag in which the latter was sleeping. Then the two
men fought.
After that, still dissatisfied, Koulavwan started to beat
Kaindshi-mboli-agwi again. Both husband and wife fell into
the water under the house — it was then the flooded season —
and she screamed for Kandem-nowe who was sleeping in the
next house but one. He dashed to the scene to defend her —
"We are both of the same nggwotl-nggu."^
ThenWoli-yimbang and Kwoshimba came on the scene and
^ I.e. a cook for the labour line. The office of cook in a European's
house is superior, but the cook for the labourers is despised.
* This term is applied to a close patrilineal group within the clan. The
word is, I think, a plural of the word nggwail (father's father or son's son),
an exception to the usual rule according to which the latmul language
lacks plural suffixes. The only other similar words that I know of are:
nyan-nggu (children) and mbwambo-nggu (mother's fathers).
The Sociology of Naven 105
began to take Kaindshi-mboli-agwi's part. They scolded Kou-
lavwan — " Kaindshi-mboli-agwi is your mother. You ought
to hit her more gently." (This terminology is based on the
fact that Kaindshi-mboli-agwi is Woli-yimbang's daughter and
Woli-yimbang is a classificatory brother of Kapma-tshat-
tagwa. Therefore Kaindshi-mboli-agwi is Koulavwan's zoau's
daughter, a relative who is called nyame^ mother.)
Woli-yimbang took a paddle, and Kwoshimba took the
stalk of a sago leaf. With these weapons they made a show of
beating Koulavwan.
Then Kili-mali, Koulavwan's father, came up and was angry
with Woli-yimbang and Kwoshimba. He said they had no
right to interfere. " Kaindshi-mboli-agwi is no longer your
daughter. She belongs to us."
In reply the two fathers of Kaindshi-mboli-agwi at once
started to complain about the quality of the valuables that
had been paid to their clan as a bride price for Kaindshi-
mboli-agwi ; and Kili-mali replied with comments upon the
nggwat keranda (presentation of valuables from the bride's
people to those of the husband). This led to general re-
criminations on the subject of their mutual indebtedness.
Kwoshimba pointed out that he was always helping Kili-mali
with his ngglambi (i.e. paying out valuables so that Kili-mali
might make sacrifices to the zvagan). "In fact", said Kwo-
shimba, "I am your elder brother."
Kili-mali denied all this indebtedness and said that Kwo-
shimba had always been a poor man till Koulavwan married
Kaindshi-mboli-agwi and gave him some mother-of-pearl
crescents.
Kwoshimba then referred to an incident in the distant
past, when he had half-killed a man and permitted Kili-mali
to complete the homicide and claim the achievement: "I
really killed that man, but you wore the homicidal paint for
him. How many have you killed for yourself.'' "
Finally Koulavwan intervened between Kili-mali and Kwo-
shimba, saying, " Our fathers must not begin fighting." The
disputants then ceased, and Kwoshimba and Woli-yimbang
said, "True, there is our blood in Koulavwan" (i.e. "Kou-
lavwan is related to us through his mother"). Then they
io6 The Sociology of Nsven
exchanged areca nuts with Kili-mali as a sign of reconcilia-
tion ; and all went back to bed.
These four examples of the latmul handling of offences,
together with those which have been given in the chapter on
" Sorcery and Vengeance", will suffice to show the principles
and diffuse nature of the system. In the present context, that
of enquiry into the sociological functions of affinal links, the
conclusions which I draw from this material may be phrased
as follows :
In every society, divergences from the cultural norm are
liable to threaten the integration of that society, and this is
clearly evident among the latmul. But under the latmul
system the type of disintegration which is threatened is some-
what different from that which threatens our own societies.
In our own case, the threat is one of increasing muddle
and confusion in our cultural norms, a rot which might
spread through the community, producing first a lack of
orientation among the individuals and finally the collapse of
the society. Occasionally, in cases where the divergence has
some positive quality bringing with it a new orientation, the
divergent individuals unite together to form a group within
the major community, a group with different cultural norms
from the rest of the population. When this occurs, society
can often accommodate the resulting group provided only
that it is not too active in its opposition to the centres of the
centripetal system. Alternatively, the divergent group may
either succeed in altering the cultural system of the society
or it may go off to some other part of the world and there
found a culture different from that of the parent group.
But among the latmul the position is very different. Here
there can be no threat of general confusion resulting from a
blurring of cultural norms, since the chronic state of the
culture is one in which the norms are weakly defined.^
Neither can there be a conflict between an organising centre
and divergent groups, because there is no organising centre
in the purely peripheral system of the latmul. Rather the
threat is one of fission of the community.
^ The extremely drastic circumstances of modem culture contact with
the white man have, however, had an effect somewhat of this nature.
Cf. the story of Tshimbat, p. i68.
The Sociology of Naven 107
We have seen how every quarrel leads to the integration
of loosely defined rival groups around the protagonists. It is
this process which continually threatens the integration of
the latmul village. With more profound rivalry the groups
may grow until, in extreme cases, the fission actually takes
place. One of the contending groups then leaves the village
and founds a colony elsewhere, but with the same set of
norms as the parent community.
A further diff^erence between the two systems is implicit
in what I have already said : in our own community the sub-
groups which split from the parent are usually, perhaps
always, formed of individuals whose divergent behaviour is
based upon some form of doctrine. The danger to the status
quo in our communities is the man who discards the cultural
norms and who, either articulately or by example, "teacheth
other men so ". Among the latmul, who, it seems, normally
regard the rules as things to break if you are strong enough,
this situation does not arise. Their fissions spring not from
conflicting doctrines but from rivalry between individuals or
groups.
Such then is the danger which continually threatens the
latmul community; and when this sociological position is
stated the relevance of the stressing of the affinal links to the
integration of the community is at once evident. These links
form a network which runs across the patrilineal systems of
clans, moieties, and initiatory groups and thereby ties the
conflicting groups together. More than this, the patterning
and ubiquity of the affinal relationships are such as to ensure
that whenever a quarrel reaches serious dimensions there
shall be some individuals marked out to act as peacemakers,
to intervene between the disputants as Koulavwan in the
example given above intervened between his father and his
wan.
CHAPTER VIII
Problems and Methods of Approach
Problems. In our endeavour to relate the details of the naven
to their setting, we examined first the ceremonies themselves,
then the basic formulations upon which the wau relation-
ship is built, and lastly the function which the ceremonies
perform in integrating the Society. The structural and socio-
logical analysis has revealed two important facts: (i) the
cultural structure provides a setting with which the cere-
monies are consistent; and (2) the ceremonies perform an
important function in stressing certain classificatory relation-
ships and thereby contribute to the integration of latmul
society; crudely stated — if there were no naven ceremonies
and no sociological analogues of naven, the villages would
not be so big. We have then two sorts of factors, structural
and sociological, which are certainly contributory to the naven
complex.
But in the study of equilibria — and all cultural and social
anthropology is a study of equilibria — we can never be sure
that all the relevant factors have been mentioned. It is
exceedingly dangerous to point to certain factors and to say
that they constitute the whole cause of the effect which we
want to explain. In the present context it would have been
dangerous to point to the structural facts upon which the
naven complex is built and to say that the sociological aspects
of the matter were irrelevant, and equally dangerous, in-
tolerantly preferring the sociological view, to deny the im-
portance of the structure. In such cases it is safer to say that
the known factors contribute to the effect in question, and to
go on with the search for other types of factors which may
also contribute their quota to the equilibrium. It may often
be difficult to decide whether all the details of an effect can
be ascribed to the known causes, but in the present instance
there are many points which are not adequately explained
by either the structural or the sociological factors.
In the first place, there are still features inside the naven
Problems and Methods of Approach 109
plexus itself for which we have not accounted. We still do
not know why the antics of the wau should be so exaggerated,
nor why they should be comic. Why in stressing his identifica-
tion with the boy's mother should he dress himself as a filthy
and disgusting old hag.'' Why does he put on the very worst
of feminine garments while the father's sister puts on the
very best male ornaments that she can find?
Secondly, there is the group of questions raised the mo-
ment we push our enquiry farther along the branches in this
network of cause and effect. Our theory of reasons for the
development of naven has been built up inside a closed
system in which the size of the village, for example, was
assumed ex hypothesi. But a stable culture is itself a complete
functional system and therefore we cannot assume certain
facts as fixed in this way, but must still try to relate them back
to the other features of the culture until we have a com-
pletely circular or reticulate exposition of causes and effects.
We must therefore ask: Why should the villages be so
large ?
This question cannot be answered out of hand, in the
present instance, by a reference to head-hunting warfare as
the factor which puts a premium on large size of village and
close integration of the community. So far as the latmul
culture itself is concerned, I might have been tempted to
regard warfare as the complete answer to the question, but
from what Dr Fortune tells me of the Mundugumor people
on the Yuat River, a tributary of the Sepik, warfare can be
at best only a contributory factor, since the Mundugumor
people combine the particular traits which we are tempted
to regard as functionally incompatible. They live in small
conmiunities which are further subdivided into small family
hamlets ; the integration of the community is at so low a level
that individuals — even own brothers — are intensely jealous
and hostile among themselves ; lastly, they are keen and suc-
cessful head-hunters and cannibals.
But more significant than either of the above types of
question are the problems of individual motivation. Even
if we were studying a community in which "civic sense"
was very highly developed in the individuals, it is very
no Problems and Methods of Approach
doubtful whether we should be justified in regarding the
sociological functions of their behaviour as indications of the
underlying motives. In any case the latmul are but little
given to expressing the reasons for their behaviour in socio-
logical terms.
Similarly, if we were studying a people who set great value
upon the logical consistency of their behaviour we should
hesitate before accepting their logical reasons for behaviour
as honest statements of motive. We may well look askance at
the father who tells us that he is beating his child either " for
the good of the State" or "because it is the logical thing to
do".
But though neither structural nor sociological phrasings
can be accepted as statements of motive, one fact has been
mentioned in passing which we might accept as a sufficient
statement of the zvau's motives for performance of naven.
We have seen that as a result of naven the wau gains the
allegiance of his laua and we might dismiss the problem as
solved in those terms.
Such a solution assumes, however, that the wau wants
allegiance, and to me this assumption is unsatisfactory. Does
he want allegiance because all male human beings are so
born that they must later crave for the allegiance of their
fellows? Or has the wau been so moulded by the culture
in which he has lived that he wants allegiance?
If we discard the genetical view of the matter and suppose
that the desire for allegiance is a conditioned appetite im-
planted in individuals by their culture, it then follows that
this desire may take very various forms in different cultures.
The possession of many loyal supporters may be associated
with the most various forms of gratification. For example,
an individual may want the allegiance of his fellows because
he is conditioned to feel an agreeable emotional warmth
when he and his friends are all jolly together. Alternatively,
he may be so conditioned that, lacking loyal friends, he feels
anxious and afraid of a spear in his back, while their presence
gives him confidence. Or again, the possession of loyal
friends may be a conditional stimulus for the reactions asso-
ciated with the gratification of pride. The crude assumption
Problems and Methods of Approach 1 1 1
that all men desire the allegiance of their fellows ignores all
these various possibilities and so tells us virtually nothing
about the wau's motives.
At this point we may note that all the questions which have
been raised in this chapter are closely inter-related. We have
asked: (i) Why is the wau a buffoon? (2) Why are the
villages large? (3) What are the wau's, motives? All the^e
questions might be answered in terms of emotional satis-
faction given to the individuals by the various phenomena,
buffoonery, large villages and naven.
But we have noted in an earlier chapter (p. 32) that the
study of affective functions is beset with difficulty and entails
a preliminary study of the ethos of the culture ; it will there-
fore be useful at this point to examine the ethological method
in rather more detail and to consider the relationship between
ethology and the concepts of philosophical history from which
it is derived.
Zeitgeist and Configuration. The historical approach to
the cultures of primitive peoples has been frequently abused
by students who practise the methods of functional anthro-
pology. It has been said that the historians are solely con-
cerned with the search for origins and with the construction
of speculative narrative. This abuse is only justified if the
writings of the historians emphasise this aspect of their work
at the expense of more scientific aspects. History, in so far
as it is a science, is concerned not with narratives and origins
but with generalisations from narrative, generalisations based
upon the comparative study of the processes of cultural and
social change. The major achievement of, for example, the
heliolithic historians is, not their theory that almost all the
cultures of the world have been derived from those of Egypt
and Sumeria, but the picture which they have given us of
the processes of change and degradation in culture. It is
indeed high time that some student set to work upon the
classification of these processes.
In the description of diachronic process, historians have
used many of the same functional and economic concepts
as are used in synchronic studies ; but they have also elabo-
rated one concept which has only very recently been adopted
112 Problems and Methods of Approach
into the vocabulary of synchronic anthropology. This is the
concept of Zeitgeist^ the spirit of the times, a concept wjiich
owes its origin to the Dilthey-Spengler school of philo-
sophical history.
The suggestion of this school is that the occurrence of
cultural changes is in part controlled by some abstract
property of the culture, which may vary from period to
period so that at one time a given change is appropriate and
occurs easily though a hundred years earlier the same innova-
tion may have been rejected by the culture because it was in
some way inappropriate.
Dr Benedict^ has developed a related concept, that of the
"configuration" of culture, and has done some very inter-
esting and important work on primitive cultures. She has
shown, for instance, that the refusal of the Zuni to adopt
either peyote or alcoholic drinks was conditioned by the
Apollonian configuration of their culture, while the neigh-
bouring peoples with Dionysian cultures adopted both these
stimulants with enthusiasm.
In European history the same type of concept is invoked
in order to explain such curious facts as that Leonardo's
mechanical inventions passed unnoticed or were laughed at
during his life-time, and their importance was only gradually
recognised during the following three centuries; or that the
theory of evolution, though stated many times, did not obtain
general acceptance until the industrial revolution had made
the world "ready" to receive it.
In handling these concepts of Zeitgeist, configuration, etc.,
it is difficult to define their essential meaning without in-
voking some sort of mysticism. Their exponents have in
general taken the wiser course, illustrating the concepts with
concrete examples rather than giving abstract definitions of
the terms which they use, and it is unfortunate that even this
^ Benedict, "Psychological Types in the Cultures of the South-west",
Proc. 22rd Internal. Congress of Americanists, 1928, pp. 572-581 ; Patterns
of Culture, New York, 1934. I have been much indebted to the ideas of
Dr Benedict and at the end of this book an attempt will be made to indicate
the relations between my concepts, ethos and eidos, and her concept of
configuration and the terms Apollonian or Dionysian, realist or non-
realist, which she uses to describe cultural emphases.
Problems and Methods of Approach 113
course has led to their being branded as mystics. There are,
however, certain generalisations which seem to apply to all
these concepts. In the first place the concepts are in all cases
based upon an holistic rather than upon a crudely analytic
study of the culture. The thesis is that when a culture is
considered as a whole certain emphases emerge built up
from the juxtaposition of the diverse traits of which the
culture is composed.
If we examine the content of these emphases we find that
they are conceived to be either systems of thought or scales
of values.
But the two words, thought and value, are terms which
have been snatched from the jargon of individual psychology ;
we must therefore consider in what sense a culture may be
supposed to possess either a system of thought or a scale
of values. At the present time, we must follow the opinion
of the majority of psychologists in dismissing the theory of
the group mind as unnecessary, and therefore regard all the
thinking and feeling which occurs in a culture as done by
individuals. Thus when we attribute a system of thought or
a scale of values to a culture, we must mean that the culture
in some way affects the psychology of the individuals, causing
whole groups of individuals to think and feel alike.
There are two ways in which culture might do this, either
by education, inducing and promoting certain types of psycho-
logical process, or by selection, favouring those individuals
who have an innate tendency to psychological processes of a
certain kind. In the present state of our knowledge of
genetics, we cannot pretend to estimate the relative import-
ance of these two methods of changing the psychology of a
population. We can only suppose that both the method of
selection and the method of education are at work in every
community. For convenience, I shall dodge the issue of
choosing between the two hypotheses by using a non-
committal term which shall subsume them both. Following
Dr Benedict I shall speak of culture as standardising the
psychology of the individuals. This indeed is probably one
of the fundamental axioms of the holistic approach in all
sciences : that the object studied — be it an animal, a plant or
114 Problems and Methods of Approach
a community — is composed of units whose properties are in
some way standardised by their position in the whole organisa-
tion. The time is not yet ripe for any detailed analysis of the
possible standardising effects which culture may have upon
the individuals in the community, but we may say at once
that culture will affect their scale of values. It will affect
the manner in which their instincts and emotions are or-
ganised into sentiments to respond differentially to the various
stimuli of life ; we may find, for example, that in one culture
physical pain, hunger, poverty and asceticism are associated
with a heightening of pride, while in another, pride is asso-
ciated with the possession of property, and in another again,
pride may be even gratified by public ridicule.
The effects of the culture upon the system of thought of
the individuals are, however, not so clear. That the circum-
stances of a man's life will affect the content of his thought
is plain enough, but the whole question of what we mean by
a system of thought remains to be elucidated. I shall there-
fore leave this question for examination in a later chapter and
proceed with the study of the standardisation of the affective
aspects of the individual's psychology.
Psychological Theories and Ethology. With this theory,
that a culture may standardise the affective make-up of indi-
viduals, we may now turn to the theories of those who have
sought to explain social phenomena upon psychological
grounds. These theories are based upon broad statements
that human beings, men or women or both, in all races and
all parts of the world, have certain fixed patterns of emotional
reaction. In applying such a theory to our naven ceremonies
we might for example say that men have naturally certain
attitudes towards women and that therefore whenever men
dress as women their behaviour is exaggerated into buf-
foonery; while women, on the other hand, are affected in
their own special way when they dress up as men and there-
fore they put on a prodigious amount of swagger. Or again
we might say that "human beings are naturally gregarious"
and that this fact is a complete and sufficient explanation
of the large size of the latmul village. When faced with the
small size of Mundugumor villages we may say that their
Problems and Methods of Approach 115
smallness is due to the natural hostility which exists between
males.
When stated in this way the theories have a slightly ridicu-
lous appearance, but it is worth while to consider the position
in which we should find ourselves if we indulged the facile
building of these theories to an unlimited extent. We should
find that we had attributed to the human race a large number
of conflicting tendencies and that we had invoked certain
tendencies in the interpretation of one culture and other,
perhaps opposite, tendencies in the interpretation of another.
Such a position is untenable unless we have some criterion
whereby we may justify our choice of a particular psycho-
logical potentiality for use in interpreting a particular cul-
ture— some criterion whereby we may decide which poten-
tialities may legitimately be invoked in describing a given
culture. But, inasmuch as human beings often appear to
harbour conflicting tendencies and potentialities, this position,
with all its contradictions, may become tenable as soon as a
satisfactory criterion is discovered.
Such a criterion may, I believe, be derived from the con-
clusion at which we arrived above in our examination of the
concepts of the historian. We concluded that culture stan-
dardises the emotional reactions of individuals, and modifies,
the organisation of their sentiments; in fact, that culture
modifies the very same aspects of the individual which are
invoked by the rough and ready psychological theories of
culture. We must therefore re-phrase the psychological
theories in some such terms as these : A human being is born
into the world with potentialities and tendencies which may
be developed in very various directions, and it may well be
that different individuals have different potentialities. The
culture into which an individual is born stresses certain of
his potentialities and suppresses others, and it acts selectively,
favouring the individuals who are best endowed with the
potentialities preferred in the culture and discriminating
against those with alien tendencies. In this way the culture
standardises the organisation of the emotions of individuals.
So long as we bear in mind this process of standardisation,
we may safely invoke, in order to explain the culture, the
1 16 Problems and Methods of Approach
sentiments of the individuals ; but we must always verify that
the sentiments invoked are actually those which are fostered
by the culture in question. In the case of Mundugumor
culture, if it can be shown that the hostility between indi-
viduals is an aspect of human nature which is as a matter
of fact stressed by the culture, then we shall be justified in
referring to this hostility as a factor which contributes to cause
the people to live in small villages. In the same way, if it
could be shown that latmul culture stressed man's gregarious
tendencies, we should be justified in regarding the gregarious
sentiment or instinct as important in the moulding of the
culture. As a matter of fact, however, this facet of human
nature is not specially stressed in latmul culture and this
explanation must therefore be discarded.
I shall show later that pride is so stressed and that the pride
is of a sort to be gratified by the big ceremonial houses which
require organised labour on a large scale, by great ceremonies
and dances which require many performers and by head-
hunting which prospers when the village is strong in numbers.
Thus the large size of the village serves an important function
in gratifying pride — an attribute of human nature which is
much stressed in latmul culture and to which therefore we
are justified in referring.
The essence of the method is then that we first determine
the system of sentiments which is normal to the culture and
emphasised in its institutions ; and when this system is identi-
fied we are justified in referring to it as a factor which has
been active in shaping the institutions. It will be observed
that the argument is circular.
In part the circularity is due to a characteristic of all
scientific methods — the fact that we must observe a number
of comparable phenomena before we can make any theoretical
statement about any one phenomenon. But the circularity
in the present case is also in part due to the nature of the
phenomena which we are studying.
If we are studying jealousy and the institutions which
regulate sexual life, we may argue both that the institutions
stress jealousy and that jealousy has shaped the institutions.
It would seem indeed that circularity is a universal property
Problems and Methods of Approach 117
of functional systems, and that it may be recognised even in
such crude and simple systems as the machines devised by
man. In the motor-car for example the magneto produces
electricity because the engine is running and the engine runs
because of the sparks provided by the magneto. Each ele-
ment in the functional system contributes to the activity of
the others and each is dependent upon the activity of the
others.
As long as we take an external — behaviouristic — view of
a functional system we can avoid statements of circularity.
We can see a motor-car as a thing into which petrol is poured
and which runs along the road producing smoke and killing
pedestrians. But the moment we turn from this external view
and begin to study the internal workings of the functional
system we are forced to accept the fundamental circularity
of the phenomena. And this acceptance is demanded not
only by ethology but by the whole functional approach to
anthropology ; and the students who are engaged in working
from this point of view have realised this. Thus Malinowski
claims that " the functional view avoids the error of attributing
priority to one or the other aspect of culture. Material
objects, social grouping, traditional and moral values, as well
as knowledge are all welded into a functional system. "^
A further and more compelling argument in favour of
the circular or reticulate view of functional systems is to be
found in the fact that any other view would drive us to
belief either in a "first cause" or in some sort of teleology
— in fact we should have to accept some fundamental
dualism in nature which is philosophically inadmissible.^
Thus, since the phenomena which we are studying are
themselves inter-dependent it is certain that our descriptions
must contain inter-dependent statements; and since this is
so the descriptions must for ever be regarded as "not proven "
unless we can devise some method of transcending the limits
of the circles. In a functional analysis we subdivide the
systems studied into a series of parts or elements and produce
theories about the functional relationships between these
^ Encyclopaedia Britannica, art. Anthropology.
• Cf. Whdtehead, The Concept of Nature, 1920, especially chap. II.
1 1 8 Problems and Methods of Approach
elements. So long as we study a single system these statements
are bound to be circular and therefore not proven. But if we
could extract comparable parts from different systems and
verify that a given element has the same function in different
systems we could finally verify the statements.
The orthodox functional school has adopted the practice
of dividing cultures into institutions. But since the same
institution is liable to have the most various functions in
different societies the final verification of the theories is im-
possible. If we take the institution of marriage we find that
it may function variously in the determination of status of
offspring, in the regulation of sex life, in the education of
offspring, in the regulation of economic life, etc.; and we
find that the relative importance of these functions in different
cultures varies so widely that it is almost impossible to verify
by comparative methods the truth of any statement which
we may make about marriage in any one culture.
The ethological approach involves a very different system
of subdivision of culture. Its thesis is that we may abstract
from a culture a certain systematic aspect called ethos which
we may define as the expression of a culturally standardised
system of organisation of the instincts and emotions of the
individuals. The ethos of a given culture is as we shall see
an abstraction from the whole mass of its institutions and
formulations and it might therefore be expected that ethoses
would be infinitely various from culture to culture — as
various as the institutions themselves. Actually, however, it
is possible that in this infinite variousness it is the content
of affective life which alters from culture to culture, while
the underlying systems or ethoses are continually repeating
themselves. It seems likely — a more definite statement would
be premature — that we may ultimately be able to classify the
types of ethos.
The psychologists are already at work on the grading and
classification of individuals and already it seems certain that
different types of individual are prone to different systems of
organisation of their emotions and instincts. If this be so,
then there is a strong probability that the types of ethos will
fall into the same categories of classification as the individuals
Problems and Methods of Approach 1 19
and therefore we may expect to find similar ethos in different
cuhures and shall be able to verify our conclusions as to the
functional effects of any one type of ethos by comparison of
its expression in one culture with its expression in another,
thus finally transcending the limits of the circular argu-
ment,^
EXAMPLES OF ETHOS IN ENGLISH CULTURE
Before describing the ethos of latmul culture, I shall illustrate
the ethological approach by some examples taken from our
own culture in order to give a clearer impression of what I
mean by ethos. When a group of young intellectual English
men or women are talking and joking together wittily and
with a touch of light cynicism, there is established among
them for the time being a definite tone of appropriate
behaviour. Such specific tones of behaviour are in all cases
indicative of an ethos. They are expressions of a standardised
system of emotional attitudes. In this case the men have
temporarily adopted a definite set of sentiments towards the
rest of the world, a definite attitude towards reality, and they
will joke about subjects which at another time they would
treat with seriousness. If one of the men suddenly intrudes
a sincere or realist remark it will be received with no en-
thusiasm— perhaps with a moment's silence and a slight
feeling that the sincere person has committed a solecism.
^ In a discussion of this matter which I have had with Professor F. C.
Bartlett, he maintained that the position is not really circular but " spiral " ;
and that therefore this attempt both to justify and to escape from the
circularity is irrelevant. But he is also sceptical of the^ validity of isolating
sjTichronic from diachronic enquiries and therefore does not think in
purely synchronic terms. The isolation is, I agree, artificial, but I think
that it is useful and necessary in the present state of our science. Later,
when we know more about the diachronic aspects of culture, it may be
possible to synthesise the two methods of approach. It is probable that
we shall then see that what appear to be circles in a synchronic " trans-
verse section" of a culture are really spirals. Such a synthesis will of
course let us out of the unproven circular argument. But if we are to
escape from it without altering our synchronic point of view, this escape
must be by way of the comparative method, the classification of the various
ethoses and comparison of the ethoses with their associated cultural
systems.
I20 Problems and Methods of Approach
On another occasion the same group of persons may adopt^
a different ethos; they may talk realistically and sincerely.
Then if the blunderer makes a flippant joke it will fall flat
and feel like a solecism.
The point which I wish to stress in this example is that
any group of people may establish among themselves an
ethos which as soon as it is established becomes a very real
factor in determining their conduct. This ethos is expressed
in the tone of their behaviour. I have deliberately for my
initial example chosen an instance of labile and temporary
ethos in order to show that the process of development of
ethos, far from being mysterious and rare, is an everyday
phenomenon. The same group of intellectuals were at one
time serious and at another witty, and if the blunderer had
had sufficient force of personality he could have swung the
group from one ethos to the other. He could have influenced
the evolution of ethos within the group.
But if, instead of such a temporary conversation group, we
examine some more formed and permanent group — say an
army mess or a college high table — whose members con-
tinually meet under the same conditions, we find the etho-
logical position much more stable. In the more casual groups
sometimes one sort of remark and sometimes another is
inappropriate, but in any formed group we find certain types
of remark, certain tones of conversation permanently taboo.
The ethoses of the formed groups are still not absolutely
fixed. The processes of ethological change are still at work
and if we could compare a college high table or an officers'
mess of fifty years ago with those groups as they are to-day
we should no doubt find very considerable changes. Such
changes are only very much slower in the formed groups, and
enormously greater force of character or force of circum-
stances is required suddenly to shift the ethos.
Correlated with this greater stability of ethos, there is a
new phenomenon present in the formed groups which was
^ The factors — weather, mood, outside events, interactions of per-
sonalities, etc. — which cause these changes of ethos have never been
investigated. Their study, though laborious and difficult, will certainly
throw light upon many of our problems.
Problems and Methods of Approach 121
absent or scarcely recognisable in the unformed. The group
has developed its own cultural structure and its own "tradi-
tions" which have grown up hand in hand with the ethos.
At the high table (a group which is more familiar to me than
is the army mess) we find such cultural developments as the
Latin Grace, the dons' gowns and the silver presented to the
College by former generations of Fellows. All these things
have their effect in emphasising and stabilising the ethos of
the group; and we cannot in any instance say that a given
detail is due exclusively either to tradition or to the present
ethos. The dons of St John's College drink water, beer,
claret, sherry and port — but not cocktails ; and in their choice
they are guided both by tradition and by the ethos of the
group. These two factors work together and we may say that
the dons drink as they do both because generations of dons
have drunk on the same sound system in the past and because
actually in the present that system seems to them appropriate
to the ethos of their society. Whatever detail of the tradition
we examine, the same considerations apply. The Latin Grace,
the architecture of the college, the snuff after dinner on
Sundays, the loving cup, the rose water, the feasts — all these
cultural details constitute an intricate series of channels
which express and guide the ethos. ^ The details were in the
past selected by the ethos and are still preserved by it. The
system is a circular one ; and the very attitude which the dons
adopt towards the past has been historically formed and is
an expression of their present ethos.
This intimate relationship between ethos and cultural struc-
ture is especially characteristic of small segregated groups
where the ethos is uniform and the "tradition" very much
alive. Indeed when we say that a tradition is "alive" what
we mean is simply this, that it retains its connection with a
persisting ethos. But when we come to consider not isolated
groups but whole civilisations we must expect to find much
more variety of ethos and more details of culture which have
^ Such metaphors as this are of course dangerous. The ir use encourages
us to think of ethos and structure as different " things " instead of reahsing
as we should that they are only different aspects of the same behaviour.
I have let the metaphor stand pour encourager les autres.
122 Problems and Methods of Approach
been separated from the ethological contexts in which they
were appropriate and retained as discrepant elements in an
otherwise harmonious culture. Nevertheless I believe that
the concept of ethos may valuably be applied even to such
enormous and confused cultures as those of Western Europe.
In such cases we must never lose sight of the variations of
ethos in different sections of the community and the curious
dovetailing of the ethoses of the different sections into an
harmonious whole, whereby, for example, peasants with one
ethos are enabled to live happily under feudal lords who have
a different ethos. Differentiated systems of this kind may
persist for generations and only break down when the scales
of values are questioned ; when the lords begin to doubt the
ethics of their position and the serfs to doubt the propriety
of submission — phenomena which are liable to occur when
the differentiation has proceeded too far.
CHAPTER IX
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
COMPARED with European ethology, the conditions
among the latmul are remarkably simple, since
their culture recognises no differentiation of rank or
class. Indeed the only social differentiation which we need
to consider is that which exists between the sexes, and, since
the problems which we are studying are connected with
transvesticism, it is the differentiation between the sexes
which is most likely to afford clues.
From whatever side we approach the culture, whatever
institutions we study, we find the same sort of contrast
between the life of the men and that of the women. Broadly,
we may say that the men are occupied with the spectacular,
dramatic, and violent activities which have their centre in
the ceremonial house, while the women are occupied with the
useful and necessary routines of food-getting, cooking, and
rearing children — activities which centre around the dwelling
house and the gardens. The contrast between ceremonial
house and dwelling house is fundamental for the culture and
will serve as the best starting-point for ethological description.
The ceremonial house is a splendid building, as much as
a hundred and twenty feet in length, with towering gables
^t'the ends (see Plate VII a). Inside the building, there
is a long vista from end to end down the series of supporting
posts as in the nave of a darkened church ; and the resem-
blance to a church is carried further in the native attitudes
towards the building. There is a series of taboos on any sort
of desecration. The earth floor must not be scratched nor
the woodwork damaged. A man should not walk right
through the building and out at the other end; he should
turn aside and pass out by one of the side entrances. To walk
right through the building is felt to be an expression of over-
weening pride — as if a man should lay claim to the whole
building as his personal property.
124 ^^^ Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
But the analogy between ceremonial house and church
must not be pushed too far for many reasons : the ceremonial
house serves not only as a place of ritual but also as a club-
house where men meet and gossip and as an assembly-room
where they debate and brawl. Further, the ceremonial house
does not stand to the natives as a symbol of their devotion
but rather as a symbol of their pride in head-hunting. Where
we think of a church as sacred and cool, they think of a
ceremonial house as " hot ", imbued with heat by the violence
and killing which were necessary for its building and conse-
cration. Lastly, the ethos of behaviour in the ceremonial
house is as far removed from the austerity which we associate
with certain churches as it is from the meek devotion asso-
ciated with others.
Instead of austerity or meekness, there is a mixture of
pride and histrionic self-consciousness. ^ An important man
on entering the ceremonial house is conscious that the public
eye is upon him and he responds to this stimulus by some
sort of over-emphasis. He will enter with a gesture and call
attention to his presence with some remark. Sometimes he
will tend towards a harsh sv/agger and over-consciousness
of pride, and sometimes he will respond with buffoonery.
But in whichever direction he reacts, the reaction is theatrical
and superficial. Either pride or clowning is accepted as
respectable and normal behaviour.
In this community there are no steady and dignified chiefs
— indeed no formulated chieftainship at all — but instead
there is continual emphasis on self-assertion. A man achieves
standing in the community by his achievements in war, by
sorcery and esoteric knowledge, by shamanism, by wealth,
by intrigue, and, to some extent, by age. But in addition
to these factors he gains standing by playing up to the public
eye; and the more standing he has, the more conspicuous
^ In my description of ethos, I have not hesitated to invoke the con-
cepts of emotion and to use terms which strictly should only be used by
observers about their own introspections. I have been driven to this loose
phrasing through lack of any proper technique for recording and of any
language for describing human gesture and behaviour. But I wish it to
be understood that statements of this kind are an attempt — crude and
unscientific perhaps — to convey to the reader some impression of the
behaviour of latmul natives.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 125
will be his behaviour. The greatest and most influential men
will resort freely either to harsh vituperation or to buffoonery
when they are in the centre of the stage, and reserve their
dignity for occasions when they are in the background.
Among the younger men whose standing is not as yet
assured, there is rather more self-control. They will enter the
ceremonial house soberly and unobtrusively and sit there
quietly and gravely in the presence of their ranting seniors.
But there is a smaller junior ceremonial house for the boys.
Here they carry out in miniature the ceremonial of the senior
house and here they imitate their elders in mixing pride with
buffoonery.
We may summarise the ethos of the ceremonial house by
describing the institution as a club — not a club in which the
members are at their ease, but a club in which, though
separated from their womenfolk, they are acutely conscious
of being in public. This self-consciousness is present even
at times when there is no specific formal or ritual activity
taking place, but it is enormously more marked when the
men are assembled in the ceremonial house for some debate
or ritual performance.
Any matter of general interest may be disputed formally
in a traditional manner. In every large ceremonial house
there is a special stool, which differs from the ordinary stools
on which men sit in having a "back", like a chair, carved
into some representation of totemic ancestors. This stool is
not used for sitting upon, and is indeed not casually touched
if it be an old and sacred specimen.^ It is used solely as a
* As far as I could make out the degree of sacredness of the debating
stool depends simply upon its age. I was told that the stool acquires
"heat" through the rage of successive debaters.
In the account which I have published of latmul debating {OceaniOy
1932, p. 260) a slip occurs. I there state "on the occasion of quiet careful
discussion of personal names and genealogies Dracaena leaves are used,
but in more passionate disputes, bunches of coconut leaflets are substi-
tuted. These latter being tougher are more able to withstand violent
usage." This information was given me in reply to a question as to the
reasons for using Dracaena leaves. I had only seen debates in which
coconut leaves were used, but when visiting the ceremonial house in
another village I found on the debating stool three bunches of Dracaena
leaves and therefore asked the question. Actually, inasmuch as my later
observations of debates about names and ancestors do not bear out the
statement that such debates are "quiet", I now incline to the view that
126 The Ethos of lattnul Culture: the Men
table for debates. The speaker has three bunches of Dracaena
leaves, or coconut leaflets. He picks these up at the beginning
of his speech and with the combined bunches he gives a blow
to the stool. He then puts down the bunches on the stool,
one by one, as if they were a tally of his sentences. When
all are put down, he again bunches them together and gives
another single blow. This series of actions is repeated through-
out his speech, ending with a final blow.
The tone of the debates is noisy, angry and, above all,
ironical. The speakers work themselves up to a high pitch
of superficial excitement, all the time tempering their violence
with histrionic gesture and alternating in their tone between
harshness and buffoonery. The style of the oratory varies a
good deal from speaker to speaker and that of the more
admired performers may tend towards the display of erudi-
tion or towards violence or to a mixture of these attitudes.
On the one hand there are men who carry in their heads
between ten and twenty thousand polysyllabic names, men
whose erudition in the totemic system is a matter of pride
to the whole village ; and on the other hand there are speakers
who rely for effect upon gesture and tone rather than upon
the matter of their discourse. Such a man will make a speech
in which there is only the barest minimum of contribution
to the issue — and that minimum something which has already
been said by other speakers — but he will fill out his speech
with assertions of his scorn and threats that he will rape the
members of the opposition, accompanying the word with
obscene pantomimic dance. Meanwhile the insulted will
watch and smile a little, or laugh aloud and shout ironic
encouragement to the insulting speaker. Besides these two
types — the erudite and the abusive — there are also nervous
and apologetic speakers whose contributions to the debate
are despised. These men generally attempt the erudite style,
but their memories are undermined by nervousness and their
"howlers" are laughed at by the audience.
As the debate proceeds, both sides become more excited
and some of the men leap to their feet, dancing with their
the reason given for the use of Dracaena leaves was an incorrect rationalisa-
tion and suspect that these leaves are used in debates about ancestors
because of the ceremonial associations of the Dracaena.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 127
spears in their hands and threatening an immediate resort
to violence; but after a while they subside and the debate
goes on. This dancing may occur three or four times in a
single debate without any actual brawling, and then sud-
denly some exasperated speaker will go to the "root" of the
matter and declaim some esoteric secret about the totemic
ancestors of the other side, miming one of their cherished
myths in a contemptuous dance. Before his pantomime has
finished a brawl will have started which may lead to serious
injuries and be followed by a long feud of killings by sorcery.
The emotions which are so dramatically paraded in debate
have their centre in pride, and especially in individualistic
pride. But hand in hand with this, there is developed a
prodigious pride in the totemic ancestors of the clan; and
most of the debates are concerned with the details of the
totemic system. This totemic system has an obvious affective
function — a very important one in this culture — of providing
the members of every clan with matter for self-congratula-
tion. But inversely the proud ethos of the culture has reacted
in a curious way upon the system and though we are not here
concerned with the origins of latmul totemism, a description
of the system is relevant as indicating the emotional back-
ground against which we are to see the naven ceremonies.
iThe totemic system is enormously elaborated into a series \
of personal names, so that every individual bears names of
totemic ancestors — spirits, birds, stars, animals, pots, adzes,
etc. etc. — of his or her clan, and one individual may have
thirty or more such names. Every clan has hundreds of these
polysyllabic ancestral names which refer in their etymology
to secret myths. It seems that the effect of pride upon this
system has been to corrupt the origin myths, so that to-day
each moiety has its own phrasing of the origins of the world
according to which that moiety's own importance is stressed
at the expense of the other moiety. The same tendency
extends to the clans. Groups of clans flatter themselves by
secretly maintaining that they are not really members of
either moiety but are the fom et origo from which both
moieties sprang; and each group has its own secret mytho-
logy to support its secret claims. The debates about totemism
are usually concerned with attempts to steal totemic ancestors
128 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
by stealing names and one of the most important features
of every latmul ceremony (except initiation) is the chanting
of name songs, whereby the members of the clan are reminded
of the importance of their ancestors and the system is con-
tinually memorised.
Actually, as a result of the overlapping mythology and the
stealing of names, the system is in a terribly muddled state.
In spite of this, the people are very proud not only of the
number of their totemic ancestors and their esoteric exploits
in the origins of the world but even of the " straightness " of
their song cycles. They feel that the whole gigantic system
is perfectly schematic and coherent. Thus the prevailing
pride which has led them to build up this mass of fraudulent
heraldry is still such that the people regard the resulting
tangle as rigid and coherent.
af If we turn to the ritual connected with the ceremonial
house, we see the men, as a group, still vying with each other,
but in spite of their rivalry managing to work together to
produce a spectacle which the women shall admire and
marvel at. Almost without exception the ceremonies of the
men are of this nature ; and the ceremonial house serves as
a Green Room for the preparation of the show. The men put
on their masks and their ornaments in its privacy and thence
sally forth to dance and perform before the women who are
assembled on the banks at the sides of the dancing ground.
Even such purely male affairs as initiation are so staged that
parts of the ceremony are visible to the women who form
an audience and who can hear issuing from the ceremonial
house the mysterious and beautiful sounds made by the
various secret musical instruments — flutes, gongs, bull-
roarers, etc. Inside, behind screens or in the upper storey
of the ceremonial house, the men who are producing these
sounds are exceedingly conscious of that unseen audience
of women. They think of the women as admiring their music,
and if they make a technical blunder in the performance, it
is the laughter of the women that they fear.^
^ For a sketch of the technique and sociological setting of flute music
in latmul culture, cf. The Eagle, St John's College Magazine, 1935,
vol. XLViii, pp. 158-170.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 129
The same emphasis on pride occurs in many other contexts
of the Hfe of the men. Here it must be remembered that
the ceremonial house is also the meeting place in which a
great deal of the everyday work of the men's lives is organised.
In it their hunting, fishing, building and canoe cutting are
discussed; and these activities are carried out in the same
spectacular manner as the ritual. The men form parties in
their big canoes to go fishing or hunting; or they go off
together in big groups to cut trees in the bush. Such parties
are called together by rhythms beaten on the great slit-gongs
in the ceremonial house ; and if the work is taking place close
to the ceremonial house the gongs are beaten to "put life''^
into the workers. Finally, the completion of every consider-
able task is marked by the performance of some spectacular
dance or ceremony.
Thus it comes about that the ritual significance of the ^
ceremonies is almost completely ignored and the whole
emphasis is laid on the function of the ceremony as a means
of celebrating some labour accomplished and stressing the
greatness of the clan ancestors. A ceremony nominally con-
nected with fertility and prosperity was celebrated when a
new floor had been put into the ceremonial house. On this
occasion the majority of informants said that the ceremony
was being performed "because of the new floor". Only a
very few men were conscious of, or interested in, the ritual
significance of the ceremony; and even these few were in-
terested not in the magical effects of the ceremony but rather
in its esoteric totemic origins — matters of great importance
to clans whose pride is based largely upon details of their
totemic ancestry. So the whole culture is moulded by the
continual emphasis upon the spectacular, and by the pride
of the male ethos. Each man of spirit struts and shouts, play-
acting to convince himself and others of the reality of a prestige
which in this culture receives but little formal recognition.
^ The native phrase, which is here translated " put life ", is yivut taka-.
yivut is the ordinary word for "movement" or "liveliness" and may be
used as noun, adjective or verb; e.g. vavi yivul yi-rega-nda, literally
"bird move going-it", i.e. "the bird is moving"; yivut kami, "a live
fish ". taka- is the ordinary word for "to put ", " to set ", etc. The constant
references to yivut in contexts of work, play and ceremonial should be
mentioned as characteristic of the tempo (cf. p. 255) of the culture.
130 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
No account of life in the ceremonial house would be com-
plete without some reference to the ethos of initiation. Here
we might expect in another culture to find the men combining
together with dignity and austerity to instruct the youths;
and in the painful process of scarification we might expect
to find them inculcating Spartan resistance to pain. The
culture has many of the elements which would seem appro-
priate to such an ascetic ethos: there are days during which
neither novices nor initiators may eat or drink ; and there are
occasions on which the novice is made to drink filthy water.
Again the culture contains elements which would make it
appear that the novice is passing through a period of spiritual
danger. He must not touch his food with his hand and he is
subjected to a drastic washing which suggests ritual purifica-
tion ; and so we might reasonably expect to see the initiators
protecting the novices from dangerous contamination.
But actually the spirit in which the ceremonies are carried
out is neither that of asceticism nor that of carefulness ; it is
the spirit of irresponsible bullying and swagger. In the pro-
cess of scarification nobody cares how the little boys bear
their pain. If they scream, some of the initiators go and
hammer on the gongs to drown the sound. The father of the
little boy will perhaps stand by and watch the process, occa-
sionally saying in a conventional way "That's enough! that's
enough ! " but no attention is paid to him. The operators are
chiefly interested in their craft and regard the wriggling and
resistance of the novice as prejudicial to it. The spectators
are rather silent with, I think, a touch of "cold feet" at the
sight of the infliction of pain divorced from the normal
setting of histrionic excitement. A few are amused.
When pain is inflicted in other parts of initiation, it is
done by men who enjoy doing it and who carry out their
business in a cynical, practical-joking spirit. The drinking
of filthy water is a great joke and the wretched novices are
tricked into drinking plenty of it. On another occasion their
mouths are opened with a piece of crocodile bone and ex-
amined "to see that they have not eaten what they ought
not". They are not under any food taboos at this time, but
the result of the examination is invariably the discovery that
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 131
the mouth is unclean; and the bone is suddenly jabbed
against the boy's gums making them bleed. Then the process
is repeated for the other jaw. In the ritual washing, the partly
healed backs of the novices are scrubbed, and they are splashed
and splashed with icy water till they are whimpering with
cold and misery. The emphasis is upon making them miser-
able rather than clean.
In the first week of their seclusion, the novices are sub-
jected to a great variety of cruel and harsh tricks of this kind
and for every trick there is some ritual pretext. And it is still
more significant of the ethos of the culture that the bullying
of the novices is used as a context in which the different
groups of the initiators can make pride points against each
other. One moiety of the initiators decided that the novices
had been bullied as much as they could stand and were for
omitting one of the ritual episodes. The other moiety then
began to brag that the lenient ones were afraid of the fine
fashion in which they would carry out the bullying ; and the
lenient party hardened their hearts and performed the episode
with some extra savagery.
The little boy's introduction into the life of the ceremonial
house is conducted on such lines as these and it is one which
fits him admirably for the irresponsible histrionic pride and
buffoonery which is characteristic of that institution. As in
other cultures a boy is disciplined so that he may be able to
wield authority, so on the Sepik he is subjected to irrespon-
sible bullying and ignominy so that he becomes what we
should describe as an over-compensating, harsh man — whom
the natives describe as a "hot" man.
The natives themselves have summed up the ethos of
initiation in a formulation which is especially interesting in
view of the contrasting ethos of the two sexes. During the
early period of initiation when the novices are being merci-
lessly bullied and hazed, they are spoken of as the "wives"
of the initiators, whose penes they are made to handle. Here
it seems that the linguistic usage indicates an ethological
analogy between the relationship of man and wife and that
of initiator and novice. Actually resort to such sadistic treat-
ment only occurs in rather extreme circumstances in the
132 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
case of wives, but it is perhaps true that the men would like
to believe that they treat their wives as they do their novices.
I think we may see a consistent cultural pattern running
through the contrasting sex ethos, the shaming of the novices,
the wau shaming himself by acting as the wife of the laua,
and the use of the exclamation " Lan men to!" (husband thou
indeed !), to express contemptible submission. Each of these
elements of culture is based upon the basic assumption that
the passive role in sex is shameful.^
In fact, the initiatory situation is not a simple one from an
ethological point of view but is essentially a contact between
two ethoses, that of the initiators and that of the novices.
The ethos of the former is clearly a mere exaggeration of that
of men in the daily life of the ceremonial house. But the
ethos of the novices is not so clear. To some extent, especially
in the early stages of initiation, they play the part of women ;
and we may ascribe some of the exaggeration of the initiators*
behaviour to the presence in the ceremonial house of novices
with an opposite ethos.
For the moment we are not concerned with how this con-
trast has arisen ; but we may suppose that the little boys have
to some extent imbibed the women's ethos in their early
life and so come to their initiation with some of the emotional
attitudes characteristic of women in this culture. This as-
sumption I cannot definitely state to be founded on fact,
because I did not study the children ; but whether it is cor-
rect or not it is certain that there is some vague idea of this
sort behind the initiation rituals. The response of the initiators
to this real or nominal contrast between the novices and them-
selves is to force the boys further into the complementary
position, dubbing them "wives" and bullying them into
expressions of the wifely role.
The end of all this is the adoption by the novices of the
masculine ethos, but it seems that the first step in inducing
this process is to compel the novices to behave as women,
a sufficiently paradoxical method of setting about the busi-
ness to force us to enquire more closely into the processes
which it involves.
^ For an instance of the opposite opinion, cf. footnote, p. 142.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 133
I believe that we may distinguish^ four contributory pro-
cesses :
1. A process whereby the novice becomes contra-sug-
gestible to the female ethos. We have seen that the treatment
of novices qua wives is a great deal more drastic and arbitrary
than the treatment of real wives ; and further that while the
women grow up gradually into their ethos, the novices are
suddenly and violently plunged into submission. These dif-
ferences account I believe for the fact that, while the wives
accept a somewhat submissive ethos without too much diffi-
culty, the novices become contra-suggestible and rebel against
it. It is certain that revolts and refusals to undergo further
bullying sometimes occur among the novices. Such revolts
may from our present point of view be regarded as symptoms
of well developed contra-suggestibility to the submissive role,
and the sharp repressive measures to which the initiators
have recourse do not, we may suppose, extinguish the resent-
ment in the breasts of the novices.^
2. A process whereby the novices become proud of the
male ethos. We may suppose that the novices derive some
feeling of superiority from their separation from mothers and
sisters and especially from undergoing an experience from
which women and smaller children are excluded. Certainly
they begin at quite an early stage, even before their cuts have
healed, to be proud of the scars. About ten days after the
initial scarring the novices are taken out into the bush and
are threatened with bamboo knives. When I saw this done,
four out of the five novices shrank away and screamed with
something approaching hysterics at the idea of further cutting
and were excused, but the fifth novice after a few moments'
hesitation submitted to the operators and proudly acquired
extra scars without flinching.
^ The theory here presented to a considerable extent overweighs the
facts \ipon which it is based. This analysis of the initiatory process is,
however, intended as a sample of the ethological point of view and an
indication of the sort of problems which this point of view raises, not as
an exposition of proven hypothesis.
^ Nowadays it is often necessary to initiate boys who have been away
to work for the white man and who return as grown men still unscarred.
Under these circumstances such revolts are especially common and I was
twice called upon by the initiators to help in the preservation of the system.
134 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
After the first week of intensive bullying, the relationship
between initiators and novices alters. The former are no
longer described as "elder brothers" or "husbands" but are
now known as "mothers" of the novices. Corresponding to
this change of phrasing, the initiators turn their attention
to making much of the novices. They hunt game so that their
"children" may grow big with good feeding, they teach
them how to play the flutes and they undertake as communal
tasks the making of various ornaments — pubic tassels, lime
boxes, spear-throwers, etc. for presentation to the novices.
Finally at the end of initiation the novice, decked in all this
finery, is exhibited to the women as the hero of the occasion
and the completion of his initiation is celebrated with naven.
3. Reactions to the presence of later novices. The cere-
monial end of his initiation by no means completes the
assimilation of the novice into the group of the initiators.
There are other younger boys who though too young for
initiation are by descent of the same grade as the recently
initiated novices (cf. Fig. 4, p. 245). Later when these boys
come up for initiation the former novices will line up with
them to be shown the flutes all over again. They will not
undergo again the more drastic forms of bullying but cere-
monially they will be reckoned as novices. At all these
ceremonies they are frankly bored. Only much later when
they become themselves initiators will they begin to take
considerable interest in the business of initiation. Then they
react to the presence of novices by themselves becoming
bullies, completely assimilated into the system.
4. Reactions to the presence of other initiators. The
drastic bullying behaviour of the initiators is not merely a
reaction to the presence of novices, but is also promoted to
a great extent by the feelings of emulation which exist between
members of the rival initiatory groups. While group Ax 3
(cf. Fig. 4, p. 245) is initiating By 4, Ay 3 is initiating Bx 4
on the opposite side of the ceremonial house and between
these two initiating groups there is constant bickering and
rivalry in the manner of their performance. On one occasion
the novices had been so severely bullied that one of the
bullying tricks, called tshimangka, the fish, in which the
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 135
novices would be very severely slapped, was postponed from
day to day. Finally the time drew near when the novices
should undergo ritual washing after which the bullying would
cease. There were still several incidents in the programme
of bullying to be carried out and the principal spokesman
of group Ax 3 suggested that the tshimangka incident should
be omitted. The immediate retort of group Ay 3 was a
boasting taunt to those who suggested leniency. They sug-
gested that Ax 3 were afraid of the brutal way in which they
{Ay 3) would carry out the rite. In the face of this accusation
Ax 3 hardened their hearts. The tshimangka was immediately
undertaken and carried out. When it was over and while the
novices were spitting the blood out of their mouths, the
formerly lenient spokesman assured me that the rite had been
performed with extra violence in reply to the gibes of Ay 3.^
One characteristic of the latmul men is very clearly ex-
hibited in the contexts provided by the initiatory system.
This is their tendency to "cut off their own noses to spite
the other fellow's face". Whenever a serious situation arises
in the initiatory enclosure, e.g. when a woman sees something
of the secrets, or some disrespect is shown to the secret
objects, or when some serious quarrel breaks out, the talk is
always of "breaking the screens", throwing the whole in-
itiatory system open to men, women and children, showing
everything to everybody. Much of this talk is of course mere
shouting without any real intention of drastic action, but
from time to time an impasse causes such a degree of exaspera-
tion and shame that the men carry out some self-humiliating
act which may cripple the ceremonial life of the village for
some years.
Such a case occurred in Mindimbit. The initiatory system
in this village was getting feebler and feebler. The boys were
going away to work on plantations, leaving the village too
weak in numbers for any great ritual to be attempted ; while
those who returned to the village did so with a scorn of the
^ It is possible that a fifth factor — rivalry between villages — also con-
tributes to shape the behaviour of the initiators. The men of Komindimbit
boasted to me that their initiatory crocodile had more fierceness {kau) than
that of any other village on the river; and it was, I think, more savage
than those of Palimbai and Kankanamun.
136 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
initiatory crocodile. The ceremonial houses were full of boys
with no scars on their backs and one small ceremonial house
had even been slowly invaded by women and was now
deserted by the men, who left it to the women as a place
where they might sit and gossip.
One day, a party of Mindimbit natives were being given
a lift on a white recruiter's schooner. In the basket of one
of the young men was a small bamboo end-flute.^ This
object was noticed by the man's wife, who picked it up and
said "What is this?" An older man was present and saw
the incident. He scolded the woman and she was ashamed.
Then he went to the ceremonial house and reported what
had happened and abused and ranted against the carelessness
of the young man who had allowed the accident to occur.
The old man and the other members of the opposite moiety
raided the young man's house and smashed his wife's pots.
But still they were not satisfied, so they went to the tagail
or junior ceremonial house^ and to the dwelling houses, to
collect all the small boys together. Even the small toddlers
who could only just talk were included. Then, that night,
they showed them everything, including the wagan gongs.
The procedure was an extreme telescoping of the whole
initiatory cycle, but was unaccompanied by any sort of
scarification. This drastic event was regarded both in Min-
dimbit and in the scornful neighbouring villages as the final
utter shame and destruction of lesinduma, the village " croco-
dile " of Mindimbit.
Another more violent but similar event took place in
Palimbai some fifty years ago. The village was celebrating
its wagan, a performance on the gongs very much more
^ These end-flutes are toys made by work boys and are not indigenous
to latmul culture. But the men have decided that all wind instruments
ought not to be seen by women lest they should guess at the nature of
the flute music which they hear coming from the ceremonial house.
^ The tagail differs from the mbicole in being the ceremonial house for
uninitiated members of jB 4 (cf. Diagram, p. 245), while the mbwole
belongs to A $. In most villages only one of these buildings is erected
and serves indiscriminately for both purposes. In Mindimbit there was
a new tagail which had been built in the hope that its presence might
attract the little uninitiated boys away from the senior ceremonial house.
But in this it failed. The tagail in Mindimbit was generally empty.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Mm 137
secret and serious than the earher initiation ceremonies which
only involve flutes, bullroarers, etc. In the wagan ceremonies,
the secret gongs are beaten continuously, ^ day and night, for
months on end, in the upper storey of the ceremonial house ;
and during all this time there must be no noise in the village :
no person may quarrel or shout or break firewood. The
spears stand, ever ready, leaning against the outside of the
ceremonial house and against the screens, to kill any man
or woman who offends against the wagan by disturbing the
peace. But in spite of this preparedness for killing the spears
are not often used, and the incident which occurred in
Palimbai is still remembered vividly and is cited as proof
that the spears are there for serious use.
The ceremony had proceeded without serious trouble and
it was time to prepare for the final spectacle in which old
men, impersonating the wagan, perform a dance in front of
the assembled women. The initiatory group who were pro-
ducing the spectacle went out to get croton {Codiaeum) leaves
with which to ornament the giant representations of wagan
(cf. Plate XXVIII a), sneaking secretly out of the village so
that no women should know of the methods of staging the
spectacle. They had collected the leaves and put them in
string bags and were on their way back to the village. Some
children were playing near the mouth of the waterway which
leads in from the river to Palimbai village, shooting the
straight stalks of elephant grass with toy spear-throwers. One
of these missiles fell in the men's canoe and pierced the string
bag in which the croton leaves had been put.
The men at once gave chase and speared the small boy who
was guilty of this offence. When they got back to the village
a general fight ensued in which three (or four?) men were
killed, all of them members of the clan Wainggwonda,
"fathers" of the small boy.
^ This is a statement of what ought to happen. Actually the rhythms
are rarely maintained for more than two or three days and are generally
interrupted by some quarrelling between the initiatory moieties. But the
rhythm is started again as soon as each quarrel is over and so continues
off and on for several months. When one performer is weary another
takes his place, taking the moving gong stick from his hand so that not
a beat is missed.
138 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
*Then the clan, Tshimail, which had taken a chief part in
the kiUing, went into the ceremonial house and pulled down
the wagan gongs from the upper storey. They built a small
screen around them in the dancing ground and then showed
the gongs to all the women of Wainggwonda and handed over
the sacred gong sticks to them, to keep in their houses.
In killing the boy, they had only acted according to the
conventions of the wagan ceremony ; but still, perhaps feeling
they had gone too far, they were impelled to humiliate them-
selves, to preserve their pride. They did not hang tambointsha
(tassels) on their lime sticks for these killings.
In the business of head-hunting, the masculine ethos no
doubt reached its most complete expression; and though at
the present time the ethos of head-hunting cannot be satis-
factorily observed, there is enough left of the old system to
give the investigator some impression of what that system
implied. Lacking observations of actual behaviour my
description must, however, be based on native accounts.
The emphasis here was not on courage ; no better coup was
scored for a kill which had entailed special hardship or
bravery. It was as good to kill a woman as a man, and as
good to kill by stealth as in open fight. An example will
serve to illustrate this set of attitudes: In a raid on one of
the neighbouring bush villages a woman was killed and her
daughter was taken by the killer (Malikindjin) and brought
back to Kankanamun. He took her to his house, where for
a while he hid her, thinking of adopting her into his house-
hold. But she did not remain there. He took her to the
ceremonial house and a discussion arose as to her fate. She
pleaded that she should be pitied : "You are not my enemies ;
you should pity me; later I will marry in this village."
One of the young men, Avuran-mali, son of her captor, cut
into this discussion, and in a friendly way invited her to come
down to the gardens to get some sugar-cane. Accordingly
he and the girl went down to the gardens together with one
or two of the younger boys, among them my informant,
Tshava, who was then a small boy. On arriving there,
Avuran-mali speared her. (The duty of cleaning the skull fell
to Tshava. An enemy skull must never be touched, and
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 139
Tshava had some difficulty in detaching a Hgament. He
therefore discarded the tongs, seized the end of the ligament
in his teeth and pulled at it. His father saw him and was very
shocked; but Tshava said to me: "The silly old man! How
was I to know?" — an attitude towards taboos which is not
uncommon among the latmul.)
But in spite of the lack of "sportsmanship", the activity
of head-hunting was to a considerable extent a "sport".
There was no clear rule that you must have a grudge against
a man before you killed him, nor against a village before
raiding it; though a majority of the killings were certainly
regarded as vengeance. In general the fighting and killing
was confined to the killing of foreigners, i.e. members of
other villages, especially of villages against whom a feud
existed. But even this rule was not too strictly interpreted;
a woman, married into the village, might for purposes of
head-hunting be considered a foreigner. I even came across
one case in which a man wore a tassel for killing his own wife
in revenge for a kill accomplished by members of the village
from which she had come.
Two main motives informed this system, the personal pride
of the individual and his pride and satisfaction in the pro-
sperity and strength of his community. These two motives
were closely tangled together. On the purely personal side,
the successful homicide was entitled to special ornaments
and paints and to the wearing of a flying fox skin as a pubic
apron ; while the apron of stripped Dracaena leaves was the
reproach of the man who had never killed. The homicide
was the hero of the most elaborate naven and the proud giver
of feasts to his lanoa nampa (husband people). Lastly, he
was admired by the women; and even to-day the women
occasionally make scornful remarks about the calico loin-
cloths worn by the young men who should strictly still be
wearing Dracaena aprons like those which were given them
when they were little boys being initiated.
The association of personal pride with success in head-
hunting and of shame with failure is brought out too in the
behaviour of those whose relatives had been killed. Their first
duty was the taking of nggambwa (vengeance). The rings of
140 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men
cane worn in mourning for the killed individual may not be
put aside until vengeance has been achieved; and a pointed
reference to an unavenged relative is one of the most dan-
gerous insults that one latmul can use in ranting against
another — an insult which is felt to be specially aggravating
now that head-hunting is forbidden.
Indeed so serious is the condition of those who are unable
to secure revenge, that it produces ngglambi in the group and
may lead to the sickness and death of its members.
This spreading of clan dysphoria resulting from the un-
avenged insult to the pride of the clan may be contrasted
with the "sociological" phrasings of the benefits which suc-
cessful head-hunting confers upon the community. Here,
as is usual in sociological phrasings, the matter is expressed
in tangled symbolism, but may be made clear by an artificial
separation of the various components of the system :
1. The enemy body was, if possible, brought back to the
village and was there ritually killed by a man wearing a mask
which represents an eagle. Thus the kill symbolically became
the achievement not only of the individual homicide but of
the whole village.
2. The natives articulately say that the eagle is the kau
of the village. Kau is a word which means "a raiding party ",
"a fighting force", "an expression of anger", etc. The eagle
is also represented on the finial of the ceremonial house (cf.
Oceania, 1932, Plate VIII), and at the ceremony with which
this eagle is put in place, the bird speaks. He looks out over
the enemy country and sees them there as "birds preening
themselves" or as "fish jumping in the water" — ready to
be killed.
3. The natives say that prosperity — plenty of children,
health, dances and fine ceremonial houses — follows upon
successful head-hunting.
4. Prosperity is also dependent upon the mbwan, those
ancestral^ spirits which are represented by standing stones.
^ The mbwan are regarded as ancestors and are classified roughly with
the angk-au or potsherd spirits. But in some cases at least, the mbwan
are really the spirits not of deceased ancestors but of killed enemies.
Perhaps they are thought of as ancestors because of their activity in
promoting the proliferation of the community.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Men 141
5. The heads of the killed were placed upon the mhwan
and in some cases their bodies were buried under the mbwan.
6. The standing stones are phallic symbols, e.g. in the
shaman's jargon the phrase for copulation is mbwan tou-,
"setting up a standing stone".
7. The male sexual act is definitely associated with violence
and pride.
Running through this plexus of cultural details we can
clearly see the general position of head-hunting as the main
source of the pride of the village, while associated with the
pride is prosperity, fertility and the male sexual act; while
on the opposite side of the picture but still a part of the
same ethos, we can see the association of shame, mourning
and ngglambi.
Closely linked with these emphases upon pride and shame
is the development of the spectacular side of head-hunting.
Every victory was celebrated by great dances and ceremonial
which involved the whole village. The killer was the hero
of these and he was at the same time the host at the feasts
which accompany them. Even the vanquished assented to
the beauty of the dances, as appears from a text collected in
Mindimbit describing the typical series of events on a raid :
(After the fighting) they leave off. Then he (the killer,
standing in his canoe and holding up the head which he has
taken from the enemy) asks "I am going to my beautiful^
dances, to my beautiful ceremonies. Call his name." (The
vanquished reply) "It is so-and-so that you have speared."
(Or the victor will say) " This one is a woman" and they (the
vanquished) will call her name (and they will cry to the
victors) " Go. Go to your beautiful dances, to your beautiful
ceremonies."
^ In this text the phrase which I have translated as "beautiful dances,
beautiful ceremonies " is of considerable interest. The native word for
"beautiful" is yigen, a common latmul word which is used to describe
an admired face or spectacle. The same word also occurs in the adverb
yigen-mbwa, "gently", the opposite of nemwan-pa, "violently" (literally,
"greatly"). The whole phrase is yigen vi, yigen mbwanggo, a poetical
form built up out of the common everyday phrase vi mbwanggo, "a
(triumphant) war dance". In this phrase, vi is the word for a particular
sort of spear with many points, used in warfare, and mbwanggo is the
ordinary word for any dance or ceremony. In the traditional diction this
phrase is divided into two parallel phrases, a common trick of latmul
poetic genius. (Cf. also yigen kundi, "quiet singing", p. 156.)
CHAPTER X
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women
IN the everyday life of the women there is no such em-
phasis on pride and spectacular appearance.^ The greater
part of their time is spent on the necessary economic
labours connected with the dwelling house — food-getting,
cooking and attention to babies — and these activities are not
carried out publicly and in big groups, but privately and
quietly. In the very early morning before dawn the women
go out in their tiny canoes to tend the fish traps in which they
catch the prawns, eels and small fish which form the staple
supply of protein food. Each canoe is just big enough to
carry a woman and perhaps her small child, and on the stern
is a little fire in an old pot for the woman to warm herself
by in the chilly dawn ; for the business of examining the traps
involves her wading about in water up to her breast and she
will be cold when the job is done. The little fleet of canoes,
^ There is some local difference in ethos between the Eastern latmul
(Mindimbit, Tambunum, etc.) and the Central latmul (Palimbai, Kan-
kanamun, etc.). Among the Eastern people the women wear large quanti-
ties of shell ornaments in their daily life, only removing them for such
tasks as the tending of fish traps. These women have also a slightly
prouder bearing than the women of Palimbai and Kankanamun, who
normally wear very little ornament. This difference has probably some
bearing upon the culture as a whole, and it is worth mentioning that
among the Eastern group iai marriage, in which the initiative rests with
the woman, is commoner than in Palimbai ; and that it was in Mindimbit
that I was shown a very interesting lime gourd. It is the custom there
for men to scratch on their gourds tallies of their successful love affairs ;
but the gourd in question besides the ordinary tally had, incised upon it,
a large representation of a vulva ornamented with geometrical designs.
I asked whether it was carved there as an emblem of the mother moiety,
but the owner replied with pride : " No, that refers to a woman. I did
not want her, but she came to my mosquito bag and took the active role
in sex."
In general there is the same sort of contrast between the ethos of the
two sexes in both areas, but this contrast is most marked in Kankanamun,
where the women are definitely shabby. They are a little smarter in
Palimbai and markedly smarter in Mindimbit. The men of Palimbai are
conscious of the difference between their women and those of Kankana-
mun, and attribute it to the better supply of fish which they get because
their village stands on the banks of a lake.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women 143
each with its column of smoke rising in the half light, is a
very pretty sight ; but as they draw away from the village each
canoe separates from the others as each woman goes to the
part of the river where her traps are set. In this work there
is none of the excitement which the men introduce into their
fishing expeditions. Each woman goes off by herself to do
her day's work. When she has tended the fish traps she will
go and collect, for firewood, old dead stems of the elephant
grass which lines the banks of the river. Then she will return
to the village where she will attend to the cooking and the
jobs of the house.
p A single house is divided between two or three men related
. by patrilineal ties ; and this division of the house is felt by
the men to be very real, almost a matter for stiffness and
formality. The man who owns one end of the house will avoid
intruding upon his brother's or his son's residence at the
other end^ although there is no screen or wall dividing the
house, only the big sleeping bags in the centre of the floor.
But although typically the women of a house are not mutually
related, they seem to be much less conscious of the divisions
and will constantly bandy remarks the whole length of the
house. Each woman has her separate cooking place with its
fire basins set up close to the wall and the different wives
of one man carry out their cooking independently, but still
there is more ease in their mutual relations and less self-
consciousness than is the case among the men.
The women's life is regulated by a three-day week, the
middle day of each three being a market day.^ The supply
of fish and prawns is such that a quantity can be set aside,
either kept alive in baskets immersed in the water or smoked.
On a market day the women gather up these supplies and
go off in their canoes to the bush villages where they barter
^ It is my impression that a son will visit his father much more freely
and casually than the father will visit the son; and it is likely that there
is some trace of the same tendency between brothers, the younger visiting
the elder more freely.
^ This three-day week is characteristic of Palimbai and Kankanamun,
but is not adhered to by the Eastern latmul whose villages are farther
from those of their bush neighbours. The Eastern latmul hold their
markets irregularly, on specially arranged days, the two parties meeting
in the grass country which separates their villages.
144 ^^^ Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women
the fish for sago. The market may be held actually in the
bush village, but more often the women of the bush tribes
come half-way along the road and the parties meet at some
agreed spot. The chaffering is done easily and with a good
deal of jolliness. The deals are small and there is very little
haggling but a great deal of talk, not only about the matter
in hand but about the events of the last few days in the
various villages. At these markets men may be present, but
so far as I know their presence has no quelling effect on the
general ease of the women. I have, however, only attended
markets at which men were present and so cannot state
definitely what effect their presence has upon the women.
The women's markets contrast sharply with the behaviour
of the men when they are engaged in their more serious
negotiations. In buying a sleeping bag or a canoe, each party
tries to outdo the other in a pose of critical taciturnity, and
in the majority of cases no business will be done.
Compared with the proud men, the women are unostenta-
tious. They are jolly and readily co-operative while the men
are so obsessed with points of pride that co-operation is
rendered difficult. But it must not be supposed that the
women are mere submissive mice. A woman should know
her own mind and be prepared to assert herself, even to take
the initiative in love affairs. In iai marriage (cf. pp. 88, 89) it is
nominally the woman who makes the advances and who, of
her own accord and uninvited, goes to the house of her
ianan. It is said in Tambunum that in such cases the chosen
man has no right to refuse such a proposal.
The same pattern is often followed in less formalised
marriages in which the woman has no such nominal right.
A typical case will illustrate the extent of the woman's
initiative: I had gone with my native servants to look at
some ceremonies in the neighbouring village of Aibom, a
village of foreigners who are not regarded as true latmul
but whose social system is very closely related to that of the
latmul. On the day after my return from this expedition,
a girl from Aibom arrived alone in Kankanamun. She en-
quired for members of her own clan and went to the house
of one of my informants who was her clan brother. She told
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women 145
him that she was in love with one of my cook-boys. Her clan
brother asked "Which cook-boy?" She explained that she
did not know his name. So they went together to a spot
where they could observe my domestic staff and the girl
pointed out the cook-boy whom she loved and he was thereby
identified. In the negotiations which followed the boy and
girl modestly avoided each other (so the cook-boy told me)
but her clan brother acted as intermediary and she lodged
in his house. The boy was definitely flattered by the proposal
and decided to accept it. He sent a series of small presents
to the girl, which she accepted. Very soon messages began
to come from Aibom demanding the bride price; and the
cook-boy was not rich. There were delays, and after about
a fortnight the girl returned to Aibom. The boy then put on
some show of anger and demanded from her relatives some
return for the presents which he had given her. But this
return was not forthcoming.
The point which I wish to stress in this incident is the
extraordinary courage which the girl showed in coming alone
to a foreign village, and the clarity with which she knew her
own mind. Her conduct was regarded as culturally normal
by the latmul.
As a further documentation of the respect which is paid
to women of strong and courageous personality, we may cite
here a traditional myth which was told to me in Mindimbit
in explanation of the head-hunting alliance between that
village and Palimbai. Both of these villages have a tradi-
tional feud with the village of Kararau which lies between
them.
Kararau were killing us. They speared women who went out
to get tips of wild sugar-cane, and women who went to get water-
weed (for pigs' food), and women who went to their fish traps.
And they shot a man, Au-vitkai-mali. His wife was Tshanggi-mbo
and (his sister was) Au-vitkai-mangka. They shot him and beat
the gongs (in triumph). Au-vitkai-mangka was away; she was on
the lake (fishing). Au-vitkai-mali went to his garden and they speared
him, and the sound of his gongs came (over the lake). She asked,
"Whom have they speared?" and (the people) said, "They have
speared your husband."^
^ The confusion which occurs here between the two women is typical
of texts dictated by the latmul. It is evident that my informant was
146 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women
Then she filled up a string bag with shell valuables and she (went
to the ceremonial house and) said, "Men of this village, I have
brought (valuables) for you." But they said, " No. We do not want
them", and they were ashamed (because they had not dared to
accept the valuables which she had offered as payment for assist-
ance).
Then she went down into her canoe; she loaded the valuables
into the canoe; she took off her skirt and put it in the canoe.
Au-vitkai-mangka was in the stern and Tshanggi-mbo in the bows.
The bag of valuables was in the middle of the canoe. She went
up the river to Palimbai, because she had heard his gongs. The two
of them went by night.
They sat leaning against the ceremonial mound (a place of refuge)
in Palimbai, and they put the bag of valuables on the ground close
to the mound. At dawn (the people of Palimbai) got up and saw
(them). They were sitting stripped of their skirts, with their skirts
on their shoulders.^
♦The men of Palimbai said, "They are women of Kararau";
and they were for spearing them. The women said, "Why will
you spear us? ". Kaulievi (of Palimbai) saw and said, " Don't spear
them" ; and he said " Come". Then he beat the gong to summon
all the men of Palimbai, Kankanamun, Malinggai, and Jentschan.
The men of the four villages came together, and the women told
them to debate. The men said, "What women are you?"; and the
women said, "We are women of lenmali." (lenmali is the name
of the old site of Mindimbit.)
Kaulievi said, "Tell your story"; and Au-vitkai-mangka said,
"That is (the sound of) my brother's gongs coming" ; and the men
said, "Who speared him?".
Au-vitkai-mangka then (calling the names of the totems of the
four villages) appealed to Kankanamun: "You! Crocodile! Wani-
mali!"; and to Malingai: "You! Crocodile! Kavok!"; and to
Palimbai: "You! Pig! Palimbai-awan ! " ; and to Jentschan: "You!
Pig! Djimbut-nggowi!". And she said, "I shall take away my bag
of valuables."
She set out the valuables in a line ; and the four villages accepted
them. That night they debated, "Already tomorrow we shall raid
them." Each of the four villages (brought) a fleet of canoes. They
formed into one fleet on the Sepik River.* -
They (the men) gave a spear to Au-vitk*ai-mangka and the men of
describing the man's sister as hearing the sound of the gongs while she
was fishing, but when she asks who has been killed the reply is " Your
husband".
* The nakedness of the women in this context seemed so natural to
me when I was told the myth, that I did not enquire into the reasons
for it. I have no doubt, however, that this nakedness is the mark of the
suppliant and that it is, in some degree, analogous to the nakedness of
the women in naven when they lie down before the hero.
^ The passage between asterisks has been condensed.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women 147
Palimbai gave another spear to Tshanggi-mbo. They gave one canoe
to the two, a swift canoe; and the two women were in the centre
of the fleet.
When they drifted down to the Kararau (reaches of the)
Sepik, (the canoes took up formation*). The two women hid in
the centre. Then the men shot an eel. It said "War". (A favour-
able omen; and here my informant reproduced the grunting of
the eel.)
The two women came out (of the fleet). They (went forward
and) sang dirges in midstream.^ They were smeared with clay (for
mourning) and the people of Kararau came out to spear them. But
(the women) were going down stream in a swift canoe. They went
for the setting of Palimbai's battle (i.e. the women acted as decoys).
The Palimbai people killed the people of Kararau and they caught
two men (alive) in their hands. Au-vitkai-mangka speared one of
them. Tshanggi-mbo speared the other. They speared them all,
every one of them.
They all went upstream together to Palimbai and there they beat
the gongs. The two women beat the gongs. ^ In the morning the
men cut the women's hair and oiled them and presented valuables
to them. Then they brought the women in a fleet of canoes to
lenmali, and left them. Kaulievi said "Kararau are our enemies"
and he came and set up a stone (in lenmali, now removed to
Mindimbit). And so Palimbai took Kararau for enemies. That is
the stone, here, and the name of the stone is Kaulievi, an ancestor
of Kepmaindsha. That is why Kepmaindsha came here, and
Tonggalus too. (Kepmaindsha and Tonggalus were two men who
had left their own villages as a result of quarrels.) Later when the
two women died, they made a song about them ; the clan Mwailambu
(to which Au-vitkai-mangka and my informant belonged) made the
song.
In the household, too, a woman may have considerable
power and authority. She it is who feeds the pigs and catches
the fish; and it is upon these activities that her husband
chiefly depends for the wealth which helps him to make a
splash in the ceremonial house. When a man is haggling
silently over a canoe or sleeping bag, he will withdraw
before concluding the deal, in order to consult his wife. And,
judging by the things which the wife is reported to say in
* This phrase is substituted for a list of technical terms which do not
concern us here.
* It is usual for widows to sing dirges for their husbands as they go
in their canoes to and from their work (cf. p. 157).
* The beating of the gongs, like the business of head-huntipg, is
normally only done by men. The oiling, hair-cutting and presentation of
valuables are expressions of respect.
148 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women
such circumstances, it appears that wives hold the purse
strings very tight. But the stubbornness of an absent wife
makes a very convenient tool in the business of striking a
bargain and I doubt whether the wives are really as " strong "
as their husbands report.
In a few households, however, it is definitely the wife who
"wears the trousers", and in two such cases the sympathy
of outsiders went to the wife rather than to the henpecked
husband. It was the wife's misfortune to have married a
weakling.
But, as against the occasional instances in which women
take up an assertive role and even participate in warfare, the
more habitual emphasis of the women's ethos is upon quiet
co-operative attitudes. Though the woman may take the
initiative in sexual advances, it is the activity of the male
which is stressed in the native remarks about copulation,
while the part played by the female is despised. In the
latmul language the ordinary verb for copulation and the
jocular synonyms which are used for it are, so far as I know,
all of them transitive and in their active forms refer to the
behaviour of the male. The same verbs may be used of the
female role, but always in the passive.^
Thus, in our study of the women's ethos, we find a double
emphasis. For the most part, the women exhibit a system of
emotional attitudes which contrasts sharply with that of the
men. While the latter behave almost consistently as though
life were a splendid theatrical performance — almost a melo-
drama— with themselves in the centre of the stage, the women
behave most of the time as though life were a cheerful co-
operative routine in which the occupations of food-getting
and child-rearing are enlivened by the dramatic and exciting
activities of the men. But this jolly, co-operative attitude is
not consistently adopted in all contexts, and we have seen
that women occasionally adopt something approaching the
male ethos and that they are admired for so doing.
In the ceremonial activities of the women, the same double
^ These verbs may also be used in the dual in the active voice. The
pidgin English idom, "play", has not been adopted in literal translation
into latmul.
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women 149
emphasis is present, and these activities fall into two distinct
ethological groups according as one or the other emphasis
is predominant. In general, the jolly, co-operative emphasis
is most evident when women celebrate by themselves in the
absence of men, while the proud ethos is exhibited when
women celebrate publicly in the dancing ground of the village
with men in the audience.
In the first group are the frequent dances held by women
in the houses. These dances are very much resented by the
men, who regard them with contempt and do all they can to
discourage them. When the women's ceremonial demands
that the performers shall keep taboos on sexual intercourse,
the men do their best to cause them to break these taboos —
and then boast to the anthropologist of the postponement
of the ceremony. At such times the sex opposition — never
far from the surface — comes to a head. Quarrels between
husbands and wives are especially frequent and the wives
take their revenge by refusing to cook sago for their hus-
bands.
I found a husband sitting sulkily in the ceremonial house.
He had a lump of sago which he was roasting rather in-
effectually, naked on the fire — for the men believe that the
art of cooking pancakes of sago is one which they cannot
learn. He said, "Yes, we copulate with them, but they never
retaliate", a reference to the despised passive sexual role.
Then he jumped to his feet and shouted this taunt across
the village to the women in his house, from which he was
excluded.
For, in spite of their contemptuous attitude, the men
withdraw quietly enough when the dance is actually about
to take place ; and the women are left in complete command
of the house. They remove all the sleeping bags, clearing the
floor-space for the dance ; and a great crowd of women col-
lects together from all over the village, all joking and in the
best of humour. After a while the dancing begins and the
gathering sounds very gay.
On one occasion I was sitting in the ceremonial house when
these sounds reached us. The men greeted the sound with
contempt ; but I asked if I could go and look at the women's
150 The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women
dance. The men told me that the dances were very silly and
not worth my looking at, that they could not compare with
the dances of the men. I said that Mindimbit was a poor,
" cold " village ; the men never performed any of their vaunted
spectacles; and if I couldn't see any dancing I was going to
go to another village. Finally and very reluctantly a young
man said he would take me to the dance and we went together.
We entered while the women were dancing round the floor
in short jumping steps and singing a rather catchy quick
tune. We sat down on stools in a corner of the floor in silence.
My companion was acutely uncomfortable and after a few
minutes he slipped away.
When the women had finished the song they came crowding
up to me and off^ered me areca nut and betel. I asked for
lime. Most of them had never seen me chew betel and my
acceptance of the offer created some excitement, screams of
laughter and noisy screaming talk — like a flock of parrots.
In the middle of this excitement two women started to dance
in front of me. They stood face to face in a jumping dance
and at every jump one woman pushed her hands forward
with palms pressed together, the other woman received the
hands between her own. Between the beats the first woman
drew her hands back only to push them forward again at the
next beat. This dance was obviously a representation of
copulatory action, but I was completely surprised when sud-
denly, in a single jump, the two women dropped to a sitting
position on the floor, still facing each other and one sitting
between the legs of the other, one of the standard positions
for sexual intercourse. In this position the women went
through the motions of copulation still in time to the beat
of the song; and then, as suddenly as they had sat down,
they jumped up in a single motion and after a few more
jumps they broke off, giggling.
The mere description of what these two women did gives
very little idea of the extraordinary naivete of this " obscenity "
and the contrast between it and the harsher obscenity of the
men. Lacking a photographic record I can only record my
subjective impression of this.
After more joking the crowd of women left me to continue
The Ethos of latmul Culture: the Women 151
their dancing round the house. The same jolly atmosphere
continued and I had no doubt that this was the regular tone
of the women's dances in the absence of men. I think too
that an analysis of the tunes, sung by women and men
respectively, would show the same ethological contrast be-
tween the sexes which I observed in their behaviour.
But this characteristic jollity is not carried over to those
occasions when women celebrate publicly. Then they march
in procession in the middle of the dancing ground before a
mixed audience of men and other women, they are fully
decorated and wear among other things many ornaments
usually worn by men — a sort of mild transvesticism which
will be referred to again in the theoretical analysis of naven.
They march with a fine proud bearing very different from
their jolly behaviour when men are absent, and different too
from their quieter demeanour on everyday occasions when they
are in the presence of men but are not decked out in finery.
Their marching gait in these processions is indeed more
closely comparable with their swaggering demeanour when
dressed in full homicidal war paint for the naven ceremonies
than with their patterns of behaviour on other occasions.
Examples of this proud bearing and of the mild trans-
vesticism are shown on Plate XIX, and a similar phenomenon
to that which appears on ritual occasions may be observed
fairly constantly under the experimental conditions produced
by pointing a camera at an individual. When a woman is
photographed, her response to the camera depends on
whether she is wearing her finery or is in everyday dress.
In her finery she holds her head high when the eye of the
camera is on her; but in everyday dress she hangs her head
and rather shrinks from the public appearance constituted by
standing up alone before the photographer while her friends
are watching in the background (cf. Plate XXVI). When
a man is photographed, whatever his costume, he tends to
swagger before the camera and his hand goes almost instinc-
tively to his lime stick as if about to make with it the loud
grating sound which is used to express anger and pride.
CHAPTER XI
Attitudes towards Death
WE have so far examined the behaviour of men and
women only in the everyday and the ceremonial
contexts of their culture. But the contrast between
the sexes is even more striking when the individuals are faced
with events highly charged with emotion. To illustrate this
I shall describe the sequences of events after a death has
occurred.
In Palimbai I was woken up at about 4.30 a.m. one morning
by the sound of weeping in the house next to mine. I went
to see what was happening and found that a young man, who
had been sick for two or three months, had finally died. The
corpse was stretched out straight and was naked. A circle
of women were crouched around it, and the mother of the
dead man had the head in her lap. A fire was burning close
to the corpse, and gave the only light in the house. The
women were quietly weeping and dirging, singing songs of
the dead man's maternal clan — songs which might be used
on gay and everyday occasions, only now the singing was
slow and out of tune and broken with sobs.
From time to time there were pauses when all were quiet,
and then one of the women would make some remark about
the dead man. Some incident of his life was referred to,
or some small possession of his mentioned with the suggestion
that it should be buried with him. Then the songs and the
sobs were resumed, set off by this recall of another facet of
their personal loss.
There was one man in the house. He was sitting apart
from the group of women, silent and embarrassed. When I
went up and spoke to him he greeted my intrusion with
pleasure and was very ready to discuss the arrangements for
the funeral — how the Government had forbidden them to
expose the corpse in a canoe till the floods abated ; as it was,
they would have to take the body into the Tshuosh country
Attitudes towards Death 153
to find dry ground for the burial; they would measure the
body in order to know how big a hole to make ; and so on.
The women's weeping continued until after dawn, but it
was no hysterical exaggeration of grief such as is recorded
from other primitive communities. My feeling was that I was
witnessing an easy and natural expression of sorrow at a
personal loss.
The behaviour of the man was in marked contrast to this.
On the one hand, he quite evidently wanted to escape from
his embarrassment into conversation about the funeral, and,
on the other hand, he boasted: "We (latmul) are not people
who only play at weeping", and when I asked whether it was
not only the women who wept he felt this remark as an
aspersion on the men, and insisted that men also weep. Later
in the conversation he turned his attention from the affairs
cormected with the death and started to lecture me on the
East wind and its totemic position.
After dawn, we first waited for the rain to stop and then
proceeded with the funeral, for the men say: "Tears are not
found in the lake", meaning that the supply will not last
long and therefore they must bury the body quickly. The
men put the body in a canoe and took it over the fens
from one piece of supposedly higher ground to another,
but all were flooded. We were a party of eight of whom two
were women, the mother and sister of the dead man. The
mother sat immediately behind the corpse, sometimes dirging
over it. Conversation on the journey was quiet and concerned
with possible causes of the death. Our plan was to take the
body to Marap village, but the men were impatient and on
the way said: "No, Marap is a long way. Let us bury him
on Movat Tevwi " (a piece of high ground in the fens) : but
in the end we had to go to Marap and arrived there in the late
afternoon. The Tshuosh were not pleased to see us, but at
last they permitted the body to be buried under a deserted
house.
The men had some difficulty in digging a grave and the
site had to be changed twice because they came on other old
bones when they dug. Finally the corpse was laid in the
grave and the portrait skull of the dead man's brother was
1^4 Attitudes towards Death
deposited with him. A shilling was placed in each of his
hands, and his string bag was placed in the grave. Since
he was buried among the Tshuosh, the grave was oriented
so that (on raising his head) the corpse would look towards
the setting sun as is the custom of the Tshuosh. In Palimbai
the dead are normally buried with their feet towards the
dancing ground, so that the corpse is not "looking into the
bush".
The women retained their skirts throughout this burial,
but I was told by an informant in Kankanamun that the
mother, sister and wife of a dead man would normally be
naked while he was being buried. This nakedness is, no
doubt, in some way analogous to the nakedness of the women
when they lie down before the hero in naven, and with the
nakedness of female suppliants.
The mother of the dead man stayed behind in Marap to
mourn for a few days, but the rest of us returned that
evening to Palimbai as a normally cheerful party, no longer
an embarrassed and silent group.
A second occasion on which I was able to observe the
reactions of the men to a death was on the day after Tep-
managwan, a great fighter of Palimbai, had died. He died
during the night and was buried in the early morning.
I arrived in the village at about 9 o'clock, after the inter-
ment, and found that the men had by then left the grave
and gone to the ceremonial house. A few women were
weeping at the graveside, and from the ceremonial house
I could just hear the weeping of others in the house of the
dead man.
I proposed going to the house, but the men hinted that
I should not. They were just starting a debate in the cere-
monial house. It was a scandal that Tepmanagwan had died
without passing on his esoteric knowledge, and the debate
was an enquiry as to whose fault this was. A few men sobbed
while they were making their speeches, and I found it hard
to judge whether these sobs were the result of genuine feeling
bursting its way to the surface against resistance, or whether
they were a theatrical performance staged in absence of strong
feeling to give this impression. In any case, it was perfectly
Attitudes towards Death 155
clear that the men's sobs were very far removed from the
natural weeping of the women.
The debate reached no conclusion and, when it petered
out, the men set up a figure to represent the dead man (cf.
Plate XX a). The head of the figure was an unripe coconut
and the body was made of bundles of palm leaves. Spears
were set up against the figure with their points stuck into
it to mark where the man had been wounded in war, and
other spears were stuck into the ground beside the figure
for those which he had dodged. A series of vertical spears
was set up in front of the figure according to his achieve-
ments. The figure itself was ornamented with shells, etc.
Six sago baskets were suspended from its right shoulder to
represent his six wives, a string bag was suspended on the
left shoulder representing his skill in magic. A number of
sprigs of ginger in its headdress represented persons whom
he had invited to the village so that other people could kill
them. In the right hand of the figure was a dry lump of sago,
because it was said that in his lifetime he had once killed a
bird by throwing a lump of sago at it. A branch of timbut
(lemon) set in the ground beside the figure was symbolic of
his knowledge of mythology. Finally, on the ground at the
feet of the figure were a broom and a pair of boards used for
picking up rubbish. These objects were symbolic of the work
which the dead man had done in cleaning the ceremonial
house during his lifetime.
This figure was set up by members of the initiatory moiety
of which the deceased was a member. It was a boast of the
greatness of their moiety, and when the figure was completed
all the men of both moieties crowded round it. The members
of the opposite moiety came forward one by one to claim
equivalent feats. One man said: "I have a wound here on
my hip, where the (people of) Kararau speared me. I take
that spear", and took the spear set against the figure's hip.
Another said: "I killed so-and-so. I take that spear", and
so on till all the emblems of prowess had been removed.
Thus the men made, out of the context of death only a
few hours old, an occasion for expressing the competitive
pride of the initiatory moieties. They escaped entirely from
156 Attitudes towards Death
a situation which was embarrassing because it seemed to
demand a sincere expression of personal loss, an expression
which their pride could scarcely brook. From this situation
they took refuge in a cultural stunt. They re-phrased their
attitude towards the dead and expressed it satisfactorily in
terms of spectacular pride, the emotional language in which
they are at ease.^ But such a handling of grief is, I think,
still not adequate, and later a further compensation is added.
It is my impression^ that when a man is asked about some
past funeral he will generally drag into his answer some
reference to his own great weeping, in spite of the fact that,
at the time, he wept but little and probably made a show of
his resistance to womanly tears.
In the later mortuary ceremonies the contrast between the
behaviour of the two sexes continues. The skull of the dead
man is exhumed and a portrait is modelled upon it in clay.
This is set up one night as the head of a highly decorated
doll which represents the deceased (cf. Plate XXI b). Around
this figure the men stage an elaborate performance of name
songs and flute music. The ceremony which is called min-
tshanggu (cf. p. 47) takes place in a dwelling house and the
women are present as audience. The flutes are played by
men hidden under the platform on which the figure stands,
whither they have been secretly smuggled. Thus though the
ceremony takes place in a dwelling house and its context is a
personal one, it is staged upon the same general principles
as all the other performances staged by the men, a spectacle
for the admiration and mystification of the women.
Later the women have a little mourning ceremony by
themselves in the absence of men. This is called yigen kundi
(" quiet singing"). It takes place at night in a house from which
the men have withdrawn. A little food is hung up for the
ghost to "eat" and the women sit in a circle by the firelight
^ In our own culture, of course, both these types of emotional pattern
and many others are mixed and tangled together in our mortuary cere-
monial. Culture contacts and the recurring instability of Western Euro-
pean societies have provided us with every sort of conflicting phrasing,
and these phrasings have been preserved for us in script through the
ages. But the latmul have a less confused culture.
^ Unfortunately I took no notes of such effusions, accepting them as
a matter of course.
Attitudes towards Death 157
and softly sing the name songs of the dead man's mother's
clan. The wife or mother of the dead may weep a little, but
the general tone of the group is one of quiet sorrow rather
than of passionate grief. The "quiet singing" goes on till
late in the night, when the women disperse to their houses.
In the months or years which follow, the mother or wife
of the dead man will occasionally, when she is alone, sing
as a dirge one of the name songs of his maternal clan ; these
dirges may often be heard on the river, coming from some
woman mourning as she paddles her canoe to her garden or
fish traps. The men quite frequently caricature this musical
effort, probably because the attitude of the women towards
death is one which they themselves find distasteful.
Indeed one of the most important phenomena which is
brought to light by examination of ethological contrast is this
distaste which persons trained in one ethos, their emotional
reactions standardised in one pattern, feel for other possible
ethoses.^ In the illustration which I gave, I mentioned how
a remark which is out of tune with the temporary ethos of a
group of Englishmen is received with silence, and in latmul
culture we may recognise the same phenomenon in the
distaste which the men feel for the ethos of the women. This
phenomenon is extraordinarily widespread and it affects even
the anthropologist whose task it is to be an impartial student
of ethos. Every adjective which he uses is coloured by and
evokes the feelings which one sort of personality has about
another. I have described the ethos of the men as histrionic,
dramatising, over-compensating, etc., but these words are
only a description of the men's behaviour as seen by me,
with my personality moulded to a European pattern. My
comments are in no sense absolute statements. The men
themselves would no doubt describe their own behaviour as
"natural"; while they would probably describe that of the
woman as "sentimental".
It is difficult too to describe a pair of contrasting ethoses
^ The same phenomenon is to be observed also in the reactions of
individuals trained in one system of cultural structure to other possible
systems. They are, I think, liable to regard the other systems as non-
sensical, illogical and perhaps tedious.
158 Attitudes towards Death
without so weighting the descriptions that one or the other
appears preferable or more "natural". The business of the
scientist is to describe relationships between phenomena, and
any ethos which he finds in a culture must be regarded not
as "natural" but as normal to the culture. Unfortunately
what is normal to one culture may well be abnormal to
another, and the anthropologist has at his disposal only the
adjectives and phrases of his own culture. Thus it has hap-
pened that English people with whom I have discussed
latmul ethos have sometimes remarked that the women
appear to be "well adjusted" while the men appear to be
" strained " and " psychopathic ". My friends forget that the
values assigned by European psychiatrists to various mental
conditions are either cultural values based upon European
ethos or estimates of the fitness of the individual for life in
a European community.
The pride of the men, when seen in contrast with the
women's ethos, may appear to my readers somewhat angular
and uncomfortable. I found it also splendid. I have not
stressed this aspect enough, and therefore I shall conclude
the "description of latmul ethos with a free translation of a
story which illustrates how a man should behave when his
own death stares him in the face :
A man went with his dog to hunt for wild pigs in the sago
swamps. When they had killed a pig the man went to wash
its guts in a lake. While he was doing this a giant crocodile
(Mandangku, an ancestor of Tshingkawi clan) seized him by
the instep and held him fast.
The man said to the dog, "Go home and sniff at my
feather headdress, and sniff at my armbands and all my
ornaments."
Then the dog went home and when the man's wife saw
the dog sniffing at the ornaments she took them and put them
in a basket, and the dog led her and her child back to where
the man was, still held fast by the crocodile on the lake side.
When he saw them the man said, "My child, my wife,
I am lost", and then he said, " Give me my things."
He put on his legbands and his shell girdle. He put on
one of his armbands and then he put on the other. He hung
Attitudes towards Death 159
his mother-of-pearl crescent round his neck. Finally he put
on his headdress of parrot skins and bird-of-paradise feathers.
Then he said to his wife and child, " Come close and wait."
The crocodile began to pull him down into the water. He
took off his legbands and threw them ashore. The crocodile
pulled him farther and he took off his shell girdle. The
crocodile pulled him farther till the water came level with
his armpits, and then he took off his armbands and threw
them ashore. The crocodile pulled him farther, and finally
he took off his mother-of-pearl crescent and his feather head-
dress and threw them ashore. He said, "It is done", and
then he said, "Go! my wife, my child, go! What is become
of me.?"
Then there was the sound of splashing, the crocodile
waved its tail and bits of leaf and grass were stirred up from
the bottom of the water.
CHAPTER XII
The Preferred Types
SHORTLY after my return from New Guinea I read for
the first time Kretschmer's Physique and Character
(English translation, 1925), and it was at once obvious
that the contrast which I had observed between the sexes in
latmul culture was in some ways comparable with Kretsch-
mer's contrast between cyclothyme and one group of schizo-
thyme personalities.^ It appeared that schizothyme behaviour
was "fashionable", standardised in latmul culture as appro-
priate to men ; while cyclothyme behaviour was standardised
for women. The equivalence between the schizothyme be-
haviour of the latmul men and that of certain natives of
South Germany is only partial ; and the exact analysis of the
relationship between latmul schizothymia and German schizo-
thymia requires a great deal more research and a knowledge
of the possible standardisations of schizothyme ethos in other
cultures.
In the case of the equivalence between the latmul women's
^ I should perhaps state my opinion of Kretschmer's dichotomy. I be-
lieve that, though the external world is perhaps not built upon a dualistic
basis, dualisms and dichotomies provide a convenient technique for
describing it, and this technique is so standardised in our culture that
there is little hope of avoiding it. I agree, of course, with Kretschmer
that we must not think of these dichotomies as discontinuous, but rather
that we should expect to classify individuals on a scale varying between
the extremes. With further investigation, we shall probably be able to
devise a number of other dichotomies, so that our classification of indi-
viduals will no longer be a matter of setting them in a row between two
extremes. With every new dichotomy a new dimension would have to
be added to ooir map of possible variations.
It is possible, too, that some of our future subdivisions will occur only
among schizothymes or only among cyclothymes, and indeed it already
seems to me that a number of different syndromes are confused under
the general term "schizothyme", while the concept of cyclothymia with
its good correspondence with Jung's "extravert" and Jaensch's "inte-
grate" is more likely to be a unity.
Such classification is an important preliminary to an understanding
of the working of the various systems of personality, and is especially
useful in presenting problems of patterns of behaviour between per-
sonalities.
The Preferred Types i6i
ethos and Kretschmer's cyclothymia, I must insist that the
resemblance between these two syndromes is solely in terms
of easy emotional acceptance and jolliness ; and that I know
of no hint of periodic variation between exuberant joy and
depression in the women's ethos, such as is characteristic
of cycloid personalities. It is doubtful whether such an
individual tendency could be culturally standardised in such
a way that all the individuals were "in step" with one
another, i.e. all manic at one time and all depressed at
another. More probably, if periodic changes were stan-
dardised in the women, each would have her separate perio-
dicity, and it would be hard to demonstrate whether this
periodicity was a product of cultural standardisation or an
expression of individual physiological deviance.
My material, which was not collected with these problems
in view, is not good enough to be the basis of an exact
analysis of these various syndromes, but since the con-
trasting sex ethoses of latmul culture are at least reminiscent
of the types described by Kretschmer, it is worth while to
consider how far the latmul are typologically conscious. To
what extent have they developed ideas about the association
of physique with character, and what types do they recognise }
The natives regard two types of man with approval. The
first is the man of violence and the second the man of dis-
cretion. Of these the violent type is the most admired, and
such a man is described with enthusiasm as " having no ears ".
He pays no attention to what is said to restrain him but
suddenly and recklessly follows his assertive impulses. Such
a man is represented in Plate XXII, and indeed this man was
a little too sudden and unstable even for latmul taste. They
regarded him as somewhat "cranky" and warned me against
him when I took him as an informant. In this capacity he
proved more curious than useful — very enthusiastic, but too
hasty and astonishingly inaccurate. He seemed indeed to lack
all power of critical thought and to have no sense of logical
consistency. When his contradictory statements were pre-
sented to him he had no realisation of their incompatibility. ^
^ The occurrence of such a cognitive trait in a man who was the
extreme of the preferred affective type is especially interesting since the
1 62 The Preferred Types
Such men though admired would, I was told, not be
trusted with esoteric information, because the natives fear
that in the erudite debating about the system of names and
totems, such an uncontrolled person may blurt out some
important piece of secret lore or provoke a brawl by too rashly
exposing his opponents' secrets. Thus with his little know-
ledge of esoterica, the violent man will behave in debate in
the sort of way which I have described above, filling out his
speeches with histrionics and obscene reference.
The more discreet type is, I think, generally heavier — more
pyknic — in physique and quieter and rather more at ease in
his public appearances. He it is who is the repository of
mythological knowledge, and it is he who contributes erudi-
tion to the totemic debating and keeps the discussion on
more or less systematic lines. His balance and caution^ enable
him to judge whether to expose his opponents' secrets or
merely to indicate by some trifling hint that he knows the
secrets, such a hint being tantamount to a threat of exposure.
He knows how to sit quietly in the debate carefully watching
his opponents to judge whether they really know any of the
important secrets of his clan or whether their trifling hints
are only a bluff^ to frighten him into ceding some point.
In mythology these two types are contrasted. There is a
series of tales of two brothers of whom the elder, Kamwaim-
buangga, was of the discreet type while the younger, Woli-
ndambwi, was a man of violence. Of these it is the latter
who is the great hero, but who in fits of temper set fire to
the original mythological ceremonial house and killed his
sister's son. This reckless hero is said to have been a man
of great beauty and especially to have had a long nose which
was much admired. It was also stated to me in Mindimbit
that his patrilineal descendants, the members of the half-clan
which claims him as ancestor, have inherited from him noses
more beautiful than those of the descendants of his discreet
latmul culture itself contains so many "contradictory" formulations.
Questions of the relationship between affective and cognitive standardisa-
tions will be considered in a later chapter.
' A cyclothyme observer would probably prefer to describe such a man
as "well balanced", while to a schizothyme he appears "cautious" if he
be a friend, or "sly" if he be an enemy.
The Preferred Types 163
elder brother. Among these beautiful descendants my in-
formant counted Mwaim-nanggur, the mythological hero
whom all the women loved and who was finally murdered
by their jealous husbands. (Cf. Oceania, 1932, Plate VI,
which shows a portrait skull of Mwaim with enormous nose.)
I was for a long time puzzled by the constant references
to long noses and by the conventional exaggeration of the nose
in artistic representations of the human face (Plate XXVIII
A and b). But the matter was partly cleared up by a discus-
sion of the beautiful woman's head represented in Plate XXV.
This is the head of a woman who died young, about three
generations ago. The face is modelled in clay upon her skull
and the portrait is preserved as a ritual object for use as the
head of a mbwatnggowi figure in certain ceremonies (cf.
Plate XXVII). Among the heads used for these dolls, some
were trophies of war, while others were the heads of villagers
who had died in peace. I asked on what principle her head
had been chosen, and the natives said that any head of special
beauty might be picked for this purpose and pointed to the
length of the leptorrhine nose as the conspicuously attractive
feature.
Thus the exaggeration of the nose in latmul art is in part
at least a conventional reference to the standard of beauty.
But there is probably another factor at work.^ The enormous
noses are certainly to some extent phallic symbols. They may
be lengthened downwards to join the penis or navel, or they
may end free with a representation of the head of a snake or
bird at the tip. I have indicated elsewhere that in this culture
phallic symbols are to be regarded, not simply as symbols
of the genital organ, nor as symbols of fertility, but rather
as symbols of the whole proud ethos of the males. Thus the
flutes, the secrets of initiation, are phallic in mythological
origin and stand in the culture as an outstanding symbol of
the differentiation of the male sex by drastic initiation. ^
^ I collected one instance only in which a small nose was regarded
as desirable. This was in the bullying of the novices by a masked figure.
Each novice was made to rub noses with the mask and to say: "Your
nose is a small nose, mine is big (nemwan) " and to express a liking for
the contact. Otherwise, I invariably heard praise for long {tshivla) noses.
* " Music in New Guinea ", The Eagle, he. cit.
164 The Preferred Types
In ideas about noses, the symbolism seems to have gone
full circle. The schizothyme ethos of the men is linked with
emphasis upon a leptorrhine standard of beauty, and the use
of phallic symbols for the schizothyme ethos has involved
the use of the leptorrhine nose as a phallic symbol.
Unfortunately I was not familiar with Kretschmer's typo-
logy when I was in the field and therefore did not enquire
into any ideas which may be present in this culture as to the
correlation of violent character with leptorrhine nose. The
attribution of such a nose to Woli-ndambwi and its denial to
the discreet elder brother, however, seem to indicate that
the latmul have some vague idea of this sort.
It is interesting that the same type of nose is admired in
women, in whom a violent proud temperament would seem
at variance with their jolly co-operative ethos. But in spite
of the contrast in sex ethos the men have a leptosome standard
of beauty for both sexes. They prefer the physical type which
Kretschmer maintains is associated with the schizothyme
temperament, and articulately regret that latmul women
tend to have "bad small noses".
I have already mentioned that the men feel a distaste for
the women's ethos, and it seems that the same attitude is
reflected in their standards of beauty. But while it is certain
that the men admire the woman who recklessly takes the
initiative in sexual affairs, even risking her life in the venture,
it is by no means certain that the same type of woman is
popular with her own sex. I did not collect any statements
of the women's views on these matters. It is possible that
the leptorrhine standard of beauty in women is linked with
the occasional emphasis upon pride which is described in the
chapter on the women's ethos.
In a very few men the admired qualities of both the violent
and discreet types were combined, or so it seemed to me.
Such a man was Mali-kindjin, who is now dead, but who was
the greatest man in Kankanamun. Toravi of Angerman has
something of the same greatness.
Mali-kindjin was an old man, and when I knew him he was
an invalid. They said that his sorcery was beginning to recoil
upon his own head. He was an astonishingly vivid and
The Preferred Types 165
dramatic orator ; when one entered his house he would come
forward and make a speech of welcome, not unctuous but
beautifully crisp and hard. In the initiatory system, he was
a member of grade 2 (cf. Diagram, p. 245) and therefore
nominally had no active part in the business of initiation,
but he was always on the spot criticising the proceedings and
correcting the gong rhythms. On one occasion the father of
a novice was angry because something had been jabbed into
his son's eye. Mali-kindjin took the side of the initiators and
in the debate which followed he suddenly seized a log from
the fire on the ground and with it belaboured the angry
father — who took his punishment in silence.
Shortly before he died, Mali-kindjin was trying to change
his own position in the initiatory system, to get himself
demoted so that he might take part in the ceremonial. His
father had caused him to be promoted when he was a boy
from grade 6 to grade 4 (cf. Diagram, p. 245). He now
claimed that this promotion had been irregular, and that
he should now be a member, not of grade 2, but of grade 4,
where he would play a more active part.
He was well hated and feared for his sorcery, and when it
was clear that he was really ill, a debate was organised against
him. His esoteric claim to the Sepik River as a clan ancestor
was attacked. He told the members of his own clan to keep
quiet during the debate — he would do all the speaking him-
self. After four hours of acrimonious debate and insult, con-
tinually dancing his scorn of those who would impugn his
Kindjin-kamboi (the snake which is the Sepik River, according
to his clan's mythology), he deliberately exposed an esoteric
secret of the opposition. He picked up a yam tuber and began
to dance with it in his mouth — a reference to the opposition's
secret myth of the origin of flutes from a yam. A brawl
started at once and Mali-kindjin got some nasty knocks and
had a stool thrown at his head. The debate was resumed and
went on till evening, Mali-kindjin still keeping up his flow
of oratory. Then, at dusk, when it was all over, he went and
sat alone, an exhausted and sick man, at the end of the cere-
monial house, and began to chant the name songs of his
clan — his eyes shining.
1 66 The Preferred Types
The feelings of the other natives about Mali-kindjin were
very definitely ambivalent. For example, Tshava, his own
sister's child, had in his boyhood a great deal of contact with
Mali-kindjin, and even took part in some of his sorcery.
Mali-kindjin wanted to teach Tshava his spells, but the latter
was frightened. He says that he was frightened lest Mali-
kindjin should take offence at the small payment for the
secrets, but I suspect, too, that he was frightened of the
dangerous position in which a sorcerer finds himself, hated
by the other members of his village. In any case, he says
that it was partly on the advice of his father that he did not
associate more with Mali-kindjin, and now he regrets this and
says: "Now me stop along bloody fool, that's all." The
"bloody fool" is his father.
When Tshava discussed Mali-kindjin's doings with me, he
quite clearly admired the latter for his breaches of convention.
It i6 usual to present shell valuables to the medicine man
when his services are engaged: but these valuables, though
nominally they become the property of the medicine man,
are usually returned to the donor. The patient when he is
cured brings to the medicine man a bunch of areca nuts and
places these upon the latter's shoulder. The medicine man
then returns the valuables which had been given to him.
Tshava told me with glee that Mali-kindjin always kept both
the valuables and the areca nuts.
Mali-kindjin's son, Avuran-mali, had also a very great ad-
miration for the old sorcerer and pride in his doings. After
the debate mentioned above in which Mali-kindjin was badly
knocked about, Avuran boasted to me of how his father
had won the debate — how he had exposed his opponents'
secrets and thereby exasperated them into a brawl.
Other people, however, not so closely related to the old
sorcerer, regarded him with frank detestation. It was pointed
out to me as evidence of his sorcery that "he had no rela-
tives ", the inference being that he had killed his own relatives
to prevent the sorcery from recoiling upon his own head. . But
though they feared him, even hated him, they were proud,
too, that he was a member of their village, and recognised
that Mali-kindjin in the old days had helped them both
magically and physically in warfare.
The Preferred Types 167
Another type of man who is recognisable in every village
is the sorcerer who lacks violence — skinny, pinched indi-
viduals who have compensated for their lack of spirit by
cultivating a reputation for skill in magic. Such a man was
Namwio of Mindimbit, a henpecked husband for whose wife
everyone was sorry ; and Tshaun-awan of Palimbai, a man who
had never married, was another of this type. Such men are
useful ; they perform cures and, as public servants, carry out
the magic to cause the water level to rise and fall when
required. They also may be paid to cause death and sickness
or to raise the water level in the interests of some individual
at a time when the majority would benefit by a fall. I think
that in the past little or nothing was done to punish these
activities, but nowadays there is a tendency to try to persuade
the District Officer to put these men in prison as scapegoats
for the vagaries of the floods. As informants I have come in
contact with three of these men, and in each case I have been
surprised to find that their esoteric knowledge is actually very
limited. They cannot really recite their spells, but only
jumble them. The native comment upon these men is —
"they have no meat on their bones."
Another insult which is levelled at personalities whom the
natives do not admire is the phrase: ''kau tapman nyan"
(literally "fight — none — child", i.e. a man with no fight in
him).
There is another line of enquiry into native personalities
which I did not pursue but which, I believe, would have
given positive results. Though my material is inconclusive,
it is perhaps worth giving since it presents a new aspect of
the problems of culture contact. At the present time, the
villages of the latmul contain considerable numbers of young
men who have recently returned to their homes after spending
from three to five years as indentured labourers on European
plantations and gold mines. They grew up as boys in the
latmul ethos probably admiring it and probably believing
that the ethos was "natural" for men. Then they went away
and lived for some years in the more disciplined and co-
operative ethos of a labour line. Now they are returning to
the ethos in which they grew up.
1 68 The Preferred Types
I believe that among these young men, when I recall their
personalities, I can roughly discriminate those to whom the
schizothyme behaviour was natural or innate, and that such
young men when they come home drop easily back into the
native community. But the others appear to have been bom
with or to have acquired but little bent for schizothyme
behaviour. As boys, they probably adopted the prevailing
ethos because it was fashionable and was the only pattern
offered to them. But now, when they have seen and lived
in a different ethos, these men look askance at their native
culture. They are impatient of the buffooning of the older
men and they treat the most important rituals with contempt.
They are openly careless about the secrets of initiation.
An anecdote will illustrate the sort of heresy which is now
growing in the community as a result of the culture contact :
The men ceremonially concluded an elaborate wagan cere-
mony which had lasted for many weeks. During all that time^
the wagan, the sacred initiatory slit-gongs, had been beaten
and there had been a strict taboo on the use of the secular
gongs. At the close of the ceremony, the men, in ritual pro-
cession, put away the sacred heads of the two wagan which
had been exhibited in front of the gongs during the ceremony
and then they beat a special rhythm on the secular gongs,
thus removing the taboo.
In the very early morning of the following day, I was
woken by some men who came to my bedside and spoke
somewhat as follows: "We want to kill Tshimbat's pig.
Formerly we would have killed him, but now we are afraid
of prison. If we kill his pig will the Government put us in
prison? Yesterday he and the other boys in the toy cere-
monial house carried out a mock ceremony in imitation of
ours. They beat the rhythm before we did. They made our
ceremony futile."
Tshimbat (Plate XXIV b) was a very bumptious, noisy,
somewhat pyknic, returned labourer, whose house the men
had had to raid some months previously at dead of night,
prodding the house with long bamboos to overturn and
smash the pots, because Tshimbat had been fooling with a
^ Cf. footnote, p. 137.
The Preferred Types 169
hand-drum when he ought not. I knew him well as a disturber
of the peace and knew that the Government would support
what was fine in the native culture. I said: "My shoot boy
shall take my gun and shoot the pig." This was done and
we all ate it.
That day Tshimbat's mother came out onto the dancing
ground and stood just in front of the ceremonial house,
dirging for the pig which she had raised. A fine schizothyme
old man, Djuai (Tshava's father), seized a stick and beat her
thoroughly, driving her off.
But the dice are heavily loaded in favour of the discontented
and maladjusted young men, and a further interference from
me was necessary before my conservative friends were finally
successful. A few days later, entering the ceremonial house
one morning, I was surprised to see a row of currency shells
set out as if a subscription was being raised for some feast.
I asked what feast was in the air, and was told : " No. Tshimbat
has been talking. He is going to make a court case of it.
We shall all go to prison. He knows pidgin English and we
don't. We are going to pay for the pig." Then I made a
speech at the debating stool and said that the only man who
was legally liable was Djuai and that the shells should be
put in a basket and given to him if he suffered ; that the
pig had been killed by my shoot boy with my gun and acting
on my orders and that under no circumstances would I give
anything to Tshimbat. So the shells were put in a string
bag, and we all waited for the District Officer.
When the case was heard, Tshimbat spoke querulously of
the old men, stated a preference for the customs of the white
men, and received a very sharp snub for his pains. Djuai
said little, but stood puzzled, nervous and rather stiff. He
was fined ten shillings for assault. No damages were awarded
to Tshimbat and his mother.
Then we withdrew to the ceremonial house to consider
what should be done with the bag of currency shells. The
natives dislike changing shells into shillings and it was there-
fore decided that the shells should be returned to the donors
and, without interference from me, a fresh collection of
shillings was started. I contributed one shilling, and four
lyo The Preferred Types
more were added. Then Djuai came forward to the debating
stool. He said that he had wanted for other reasons to hit
that woman. She had been unkind to his child, and he would
be well content with five shillings.
In this instance I was able to defend the culture, but
without my interference it is almost certain that the initiatory
system in Kankanamun would have received a severe blow.
I suggest that a very great deal of the action of culture contact
in destroying institutions may be due to mechanisms of this
kind — the contact upsetting the delicate adjustment between
the temperaments of deviant individuals and the ethos of the
culture.
CHAPTER XIII
Ethological Contrast^ Competition
and Schismogenesis
THE foregoing description of the contrast between the
men's and women's ethos among the latmul people
raises at once the problem of how such ethological
contrast is produced and maintained. The first theory which
occurs to us is that individuals of the two sexes, owing to
genetic and deep physiological differences, may tend to de-
velop different patterns of personality, and that the differences
in ethos in the two sexes are simply an expression of these
innate differences. But though we invoke heredity we cannot
exclude the influence of culture and environment.
The matter is confused and difficult. The two extreme
theories, (a) that the ethological contrast is entirely deter-
mined by culture and (6) that the contrast is entirely deter-
mined by sex physiology and heredity, are both of them
untenable. The first must be abandoned because we know
of considerable innate physical and physiological differences
between the sexes, differences in shape, in bulk, in deposition
of fat, in speed of development and so on. These differences
must necessarily be expressed in all the behaviour of the
individuals — in gesture, posture, choice of activity, etc. — and
therefore must contribute to the ethological contrast.
On the other hand, the theory which would ascribe the
contrast entirely to heredity must be abandoned for various
reasons. Even if we were dealing with physical differences
between the sexes in any one community, the question would
arise as to how much these physical differences are culturally
exaggerated or modified by costume or deformation ; and the
likelihood of cultural modification of psychological differences
is even greater.
Some theory of a fundamental biological difference in
temperament between the sexes may probably be found in
every community in which the ethoses of the two sexes are
172 Ethological Contrast, Competition
differentiated, and in our own culture with its extreme con-
fusion and diversity of ethos, it is usual to ascribe almost any
characteristic of a personality to biological sex. Under the
term "womanliness" is subsumed a syndrome of charac-
teristics— warm motherliness, easy emotional expression,
pyknic beauty and so on — comparable with the ethos of
women among the latmul. But the term " femininity " is used
for a syndrome much more closely allied to latmul-masculine-
pride, sudden capriciousness, waywardness and leptosome
beauty.
More significant, however, than the confused phrasings of
our own culture are the findings of Dr Margaret Mead.^ She
has shown that among the Arapesh who live in the mountains
north of the Sepik River, between it and the coast, a uniform
ethos is standardised for both sexes; and that among the
Mundugumor who live on a tributary of the Lower Sepik,
there is again no contrast in sex ethos. But while the ethos
of both sexes among the Arapesh, though more gentle, is
vaguely reminiscent of that which we have found among the
latmul women, the ethos of both sexes among the Mundugu-
mor is a harsher and less exhibitionistic version of that of the
latmul men. Lastly, Dr Mead worked among the Tchambuli
and found there a contrast between the ethos of the two sexes.
This contrast was, however, not identical with that which
I have described among the latmul. The ethos of the Tcham-
buli men was less harsh and more exhibitionistic than that
of the latmul, while the Tchambuli women were somewhat
harder and more business-like than those of the latmul. In
the light of these findings, if we are to maintain a theory of
innate difference in temperament in the two sexes, we should
have to suppose that the genetic constitution of the indi-
viduals is, statistically, markedly different in each of the four
tribes which I have mentioned.
Inasmuch as there are physical differences between these
peoples and a likelihood that these physical differences are
genetically determined, it is conceivable that there may be
differences in innate temperament. But at least we can say
that the differences are not due to peculiarities of sexual
^ Sex and Temperament, 1935.
and Schismogenesis 173
physiology, since either ethos may be standardised for both
sexes. The differences, whether sexual or not, would have
to be described in Mendelian terms, and I know of no pattern
of Mendelian inheritance which would enable us to build
up populations with prominent statistical differences or simi-
larities between the sexes such as occur in the four tribes
which have been described.
We are thus forced to take up some position intermediate
between the two extreme theories. .We cannot entirely ex-
clude either heredity or social environment, and it would be
premature to indicate the exact form of intermediate theory
which we should adopt. In this chapter, since the material
I collected was not of a sort to be susceptible of genetic
analysis, and since I took no measurements of* physique,
I must confine myself to the investigation of the social and
cultural factors involved in the shaping of personality, while
leaving open the possibility that such temperamental charac-
teristics as are referred to in the terms, cyclothymia and
schizothymia, may be determined by heredity and are prob-
ably independent of sex.
It is possible, for example, that the populations in the four
tribes mentioned above are statistically alike in tempera-
mental characteristics, and that in each population and in
each sex there occur individuals who are born with a natural
bent for the various ethoses. If this could be demonstrated,
we should then have to suppose that some of the individuals
in any one culture are naturally more fitted for life in that
culture than others, and that in each culture there are genetic
deviants who do their best to adapt themselves to an ethos
whose bias is but little developed in their temperaments. We
should, however, still have to acknowledge that hereditary
tendencies had played a very important part in the shaping
of the culture since the innate characteristics of the "pre-
ferred types " would seem to have guided the culture in its
evolution.
With this preambk, we may turn to consider cultural
factors which probably promote the ethos of each sex in
latmul culture. When I was among the latrhul, the very
concept of ethos was to me very dimly defined, and I have
1 74 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
never had any training or practical experience in the study
of the moulding of human beings and especially children.
I have therefore not the material to describe these processes
among the latmul in any detail, and my remarks must be
regarded as no more than a tentative suggestion of how the
processes may fit together.
My impression is that there is no marked difference be-
tween the treatment of male babies and that of females, nor
did I find any strong feeling that babies of one sex were more
desirable than those of the other. In general, infants of both
sexes seem to be happy and well-treated ; they are, I think,
rarely left alone for long periods. One detail is worth men-
tioning : in this culture children of both sexes are conspicu-
ously ornamented with shells even in everyday life (cf.
Plate XVII a).i I used to carry on my wrist a circular pig's
tusk (bought in Sydney) and found that the loan of this shiny
white object, obviously an ornament, was invariably eff"ective
in stopping the crying of small children of both sexes, at least
for a few minutes.
It is my impression that we should look for the origins of
contrasting sex ethos among the latmul, not in the experiences
of very early childhood, but in the later training of boys and
girls. We should see the two ethoses as acquired by learning
and imitation rather than as springing from peculiarities
implanted in the deep unconscious in the first two years of
life.
In the case of the boys : the preoccupation of their seniors
with head-hunting and with the production of spectacular
displays; their life in the toy ceremonial house, where they
ape their seniors; the processes which we have analysed in
our study of initiation (p. 130 et seq.); the little boy's first
experience of homicide when he is still a child, spearing some
wretched bound captive, while his wau helps him to lift
the spear; the elaborate naven, of which the little boy is
immediately made the hero — all these factors, no doubt,
contribute to shape the boys into latmul men.
^ It is possible that this ornamentation of children is in some sense
analogous with the ornamentation of women, which is a conspicuous
characteristic of the Eastern latmul (cf. footnote, p. 142).
and Schismogenesis 175
Similarly, the women's ethos is no doubt formed in part
by their preoccupation with the routines of food-getting and
child-rearing, and by the association of girls with older
women who have already adopted the ethos.
Factors of the sort which I have considered above may be
presumed to play their part in maintaining the status quo,
but in addition to these I believe that in the mechanisms
which underlie ethological contrast, we are concerned with
other factors which, if they were unrestrained, would lead
to changes in the cultural norms. I am inclined to see the
Status quo as a dynamic equilibrium, in which changes are
I continually taking place. On the one hand, processes of
differentiation tending towards increase of the ethological
contrast, and on the other, processes which continually
counteract this tendency towards differentiation.
The processes of differentiation I have referred to as
schismogenesis.^ They are, I believe, of very wide sociological
and psychological significance, and therefore in my descrip-
tion of these phenomena I shall use as illustrative material
not only the very meagre facts which I collected in New
Guinea, upon which the concept of schismogenesis was
originally built, but also no less sketchy observations of the
occurrence of schismogenesis in European communities.
r I would define schismogenesis as a process of differentiation
in the norms of individual behaviour resulting from cumulative
interaction between individuals.
For the moment we need not concern ourselves with
defining the exact position of this concept in regard to the
various disciplines which I have tried to separate. I think
that we should be prepared rather to study schismogenesis
from all the points of view — structural, ethological, and socio-
logical— which I have advocated ; and in addition to these it
is reasonably certain that schismogenesis plays an important
part in the moulding of individuals. I am inclined to regard
the study of the reactions of individuals to the reactions of other
individuals as a useful definition of the whole discipline which
^ Man, 1935, p. 199, "Culture Contact and Schismogenesis". This
article is an outline of the sociological problems presented by the concept
of schismogenesis. It contains almost no reference to the phenomena
which I observed in New Guinea.
176 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
is vaguely referred to as Social Psychology. This definition
might steer the subject away from mysticism.
We should do well, I think, to speak no more of "the social
behaviour of individuals" or of "the reactions of the indi-
vidual to society". These phrasings lead all too easily to
such concepts as those of Group Mind and Collective Uncon-
scious. These concepts are almost meaningless to me, and
I believe that even if we avoid them we are liable to err by
confusing our study of the psychological processes of the
individual with our study of society as a whole ; a confusion
of spheres of relevance.
When our discipline is defined in terms of the reactions
of an individual to the reactions of other individuals, it is
at once apparent that we must regard the relationship between
two individuals as liable to alter from time to time, even
without disturbance from outside. We have to consider, not
only A's reactions to 5's behaviour, but we must go on to
consider how these affect 5's later behaviour and the effect
of this on A.
It is at once apparent that many systems of relationship,
either between individuals or groups of individuals, contain
a tendency towards progressive change. If, for example, one
of the patterns of cultural behaviour, considered appropriate
in individual A, is culturally labelled as an assertive pattern,
while B is expected to reply to this with what is culturally
regarded as submission, it is likely that this submission will
encourage a further assertion, and that this assertion will
demand still further submission. We have thus a potentially
progressive state of affairs, and unless other factors are pre-
sent to restrain the excesses of assertive and submissive
behaviour, A must necessarily become more and more asser-
tive, while B will become more and more submissive; and
this progressive change will occur whether A and B are
separate individuals or members of complementary groups.
Progressive changes of this sort we may describe as com-
plementary schismogenesis. But there is another pattern of
relationships between individuals or groups of individuals
which equally contains the germs of progressive change. If,
for example, we find boasting as the cultural pattern of
and Schismogenesis 177
behaviour in one group, and that the other group repHes to
this with boasting, a competitive situation may develop in
which boasting leads to more boasting, and so on. This type
of progressive change we may call symmetrical schismo-
genesis.^
In the light of this theoretical consideration of the possi-
bilities, it is clear that we must consider the various contexts
of latmul culture to determine whether either complementary
or symmetrical schismogenesis contributes anything to the
shaping of cultural norms. Is it possible that the contrast
in sex ethos is of such a kind that it is liable to complementary
schismogenesis ?
We have seen that the women are an audience for the
spectacular performances of the men, and there can be no
reasonable doubt that the presence of an audience is a very
important factor in shaping the men's behaviour. In fact,
it is probable that the men are more exhibitionistic because
the women admire their performances. Conversely, there can
be no doubt that the spectacular behaviour is a stimulus
which summons the audience together, promoting in the
women the appropriate complementary behaviour. We may
wonder, too, whether the whole system of behaviour which
surrounds the flutes, wagan, and other secrets of initiation
would be maintained if it were not for the fact that the women
hear and admire the music of the flutes and the rhythms of
the wagan.
But the contrast between exhibitionism and admiration is
only a part of the general sex contrast which includes a
whole nexus of inter-related characteristics, and it would be
very important to know whether this wider contrast tends
towards schismogenesis. The only detail which I can pro-
duce which seems to show that such a schismogenesis occurs
in latmul culture is the reaction of the men to the dirging
^ The difference between complementary and symmetrical schismo-
genesis is closely analogous to that between schism and heresy, where
heresy is the term used for the splitting of a religious sect in which the
divergent group have doctrines antagonistic to those of the parent group,
while schism is the term used for the splitting of a sect in which two
resulting groups have the same doctrine, but separate and competing
politics. In spite of this, I have used the term schismogenesis for both
types of phenomena.
178 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
of the widow, when they indulge in harsh caricature. Unfor-
tunately I do not know the widow's reaction to being carica-
tured.
Complementary schismogenesis is evident again in the
contexts of initiation, the process of inculcating latmul-
masculine ethos into the novices. This process I have already
analysed in such detail as the material permits (p. 133).
I have indicated how the initiators with latmul-masculine
ethos react to the presence of novices with (supposedly)
latmul-womanly ethos: the presence of the novices stimu-
lates the initiators to harsh and fantastic behaviour. Later,
the novices themselves become initiators, and are schismo-
genically driven by the presence of later novices into latmul-
masculine behaviour. The admiring ethos of the women is
also active in bringing about the assimilation of the novices
to the group of men; the novices are ornamented and ex-
hibited to the women at the end of initiation.
Lastly, a curious and possibly factitious case of comple-
mentary schismogenesis may be noted in the laua's boasting
in the presence of his wau, who shames himself in reply.
Symmetrical schismogenesis is not evident between the
sexes, but occurs in dramatic form in initiation. Here we
have rival moieties competing against each other in their
bullying of the novices, and prompting each other to further
brutalities (pp. 134, 135).
The phenomena of Schismogenesis are by no means con-
fined to latmul culture, and in order to emphasise the wide-
spread importance of the process which I first noted among
the latmul, I shall indicate in what other fields I expect to
recognise schismogenesis :
I. In all intimate relations between pairs of individuals.
A great many of the maladjustments of marriage are nowadays
described in terms of the identification of spouse with parent.
Such a phrasing may be historically accurate : it may be true
that the husband in a marriage tends to carry over into his
relationship with his wife attitudes which have been pre-
viously formed in his relationship with his mother. But this
fact alone is by no means sufficient to account for the break-
and Schismogenesis C 179]
down of the marriage, and it is difficult in terms of such a
theory to explain why such marriages, in their earlier stages,
are often very satisfactory and only later become a cause of
misery to both partners.
But if we add to this diachronic phrasing of the relation-
ship the possibility that the patterns of behaviour between
the partners are liable to progressive change of a schismo-
genic nature, it is evident that we have a theory which would
explain both why the relationship is satisfactory in its early
stages and why its breakdown appears inevitable to the people
concerned. The relationship between son and mother is, in our
culture, a complementary relationship,^ which in its early
stages is patterned on fostering on the mother's side and
feebleness on the child's. Later the relationship may develop
in very various ways: e.g., {a) the pattern of fostering and
feebleness may persist; or {b) the relationship may evolve
towards the pattern which we have noted among the latmul
where the mother takes a vicarious pride in her offspring;
or {c) it may evolve towards an assertive-submissive contrast
in which it may be either person who takes the assertive role.
But whatever the pattern, the mother-son relationship is
almost always complementary. If these patterns are carried
over into the son's marriage it is likely that they may there
become the starting point of a schismogenesis which will
wreck the marriage.
It is perhaps worth while to suggest that in many cases an
explanation and demonstration, to the partners in such mar-
riages, of the schismogenesis in which they are involved
might have the same therapeutic effect as the understanding,
on the part of the husband, that he is identifying his wife
with his mother.
2. In the progressive maladjustment of neurotic and
prepsychotic individuals. I myself have no experience of
psychiatry, but I suspect that in addition to studying the
^ Exceptionally, in our own culture, we may come across cases in which
the relationship between son and mother is almost symmetrical or reci-
procal. It would be interesting to know whether such sons are ever,
in their marriages, involved in. complementary schismogenesis of the
festering-feebleness or exhibitionism-admiration types.
i8o,. Ethological Contrast^ Competition
individual pathology in every case, the psychiatrist would do
well to pay more attention to the relations which the deviant
individual has with those around him. I have discussed this
matter with Dr J. T. MacCurdy, who agrees with me that
in many cases the growth of the symptoms of the paranoid
individual are attributable to schismogenic relationships with
those nearest to him. I understand that it is usual to find
that those paranoids who build their delusions around a
belief in the unfaithfulness of their wives, almost invariably
have wives whose utter faithfulness is obvious to every out-
sider. Here we may suspect that the schismogenesis takes
the form of continual expression of anxiety and suspicion on
the husband's side, and continual response to this on the side
of the wife, so that she, either continually humouring him or
contradicting him, is promoting his maladjustment, and he,
in turn, becoming more maladjust, demands more and more
exaggerated responses from her.
In the case of schizoid maladjustment, the matter is not
so clear. I have suggested above that in latmul culture the
circular ethos of the women and the schizothyme ethos of
the men are mutually complementary and liable to schismo-
genesis. If this be true, and further observations are required
to verify it, we must be prepared to accept the fact that the
schizophrene is not merely working out his own internal
pathology, which indeed may or may not be getting worse,
but is also responding to the more cyclothyme people around
him by himself becoming more and more schizoid.
Such a view of the progressive degeneration of the schizoid
would explain very simply the extraordinary inevitability of
this degeneration, and would explain, too, the fact that the
patient himself is often preoccupied with ideas of predestina-
tion in such a degree that these ideas themselves contribute
in no small measure to his destruction. It is possible that if
in the early stages a schizoid individual could be brought to
realise that the progressive process which he sees as inevitable
is actually very simple and easily controlled, its progress
might be arrested.
But a great deal of work remains to be done in labelling
the various syndromes which are grouped under the heading
and Schismogenesis i8i
of "schizothymia". From the latmul material, it is clear
only that the contrast between the men and the women is
somehow comparable to that between one type of schizo-
thymia and the circular temperament. It is probable, how-
ever, that there are a good many patterns of complementary
schismogenesis in each of which one partner is ultimately
driven into schizoid distortions of his personality, and that a
classification of these various paired patterns will give us a
clue to the classification of the schizothyme syndromes. More-
over, an understanding of these syndromes in terms of the
schismogeneses in which they arise may give us a clue to
their treatment in the early stages.
In the later stages of schizophrenia it seems probable that
the personality of the patient is permanently maimed, and
an understanding of the schismogenesis which contributed
to his breakdown would probably be of no therapeutic use.
It is probable that schismogenesis is an important factor
in neurosis as well as in psychosis, and that a new discipline
of psycho-analysis could be built up on these lines supple-
menting the systems which are now being used. In Freudian
analysis and in the other systems which have grown out of it,
there is an emphasis upon the diachronic view of the indi-
vidual, and to a very great extent cure depends upon inducing
the patient to see his life in these terms. He is made to realise
that his present misery is an outcome of events which took
place long ago, and, accepting this, he may discard his misery
as irrelevantly caused. But it should also be possible to make
the patient see his reactions to those around him in synchronic
terms, so that he would realise and be able to control the
schismogenesis between himself and his friends.
It is likely that while for some patients the administering
of a diachronic view is curative in its effects, for others this
treatment may only accentuate their maladjustment. For these
latter, it is possible that the administering of a synchronic
view would be curative and give them a complete and realistic
understanding of themselves. The dangers of psycho-analysis
when administered to schizoid patients may indeed arise
simply out of the preoccupation of such patients with destiny
and the inevitability of historic accident. A sense of con-
1 82 Ethological Contrast, Competition
temporary process is perhaps a necessary corrective to an
over-developed sense of personal history, and mce versa.
I believe also that it would be worth while to look for
schismogenic phenomena in cases of split personality. Here
we have two forms of schismogenesis to consider: first a
probable schismogenesis between the patient and his friends,
and secondly a possible schismogenesis within the pefsonality
of the patient. It is possible, in fact, that one half of the split
personality promotes the other and vice versa, producing an
ever-widening breech and incidentally causing each half of
the personality to be less and less capable of adaptive behaviour
in the patient's social setting.
To what extent this schismogenesis within the personality
is present in all individuals who are involved in an external
schismogenesis is a question which cannot now be answered,
but it is probable that we may see the development of
vicarious pride and its expression in gestures of self-abnega-
tion as phenomena related to those of split personality. It is
probable too that we should see exhibitionism and narcissism
as very closely inter-related phenomena. The latmul man,
who courts the admiration of the women by exhibitionistic
behaviour, is almost certainly admiring his own performance
with one half of his personality : an external schismogenesis
may induce an internal narcissism.
Dr MacCurdy has suggested two other contexts in which
schismogenesis probably occurs, namely in the behaviour of
manic patients, and in the tantrums of children. The symptoms
of mania are enormously increased when an audience is pre-
sent; and the responses of parents are liable to accentuate
the tantrums of their children.
It is not enough, however, to make a list of contexts in
which schismogenesis occurs, and it would be a mistake to
suppose that in the word schismogenesis we have the key to
all the processes of character formation. If this concept is
to be of real value, it must stimulate enquiry into the con-
ditions upon which schismogenesis depends. Among these
we may note that schismogenesis is impossible unless the
social circumstances are such that the individuals concerned
are held together by some form of common interest, mutual
and Schismogenesis 183
dependence, or by their social status. As to the nature of
the factors which hold them together, and the relationship
between these factors and the schismogenic process, we know
nothing.
Another factor which is necessary for schismogenesis has
already been mentioned but it assumes a special importance
in these psychological contexts. I said (p. 176) that if the
behaviour oi A "is culturally labelled as an assertive pattern,
while B is expected to reply to this with what is culturally
regarded as submission", we may expect schismogenesis to
occur. The ethological aspect of the behaviour is fundamental
for schismogenesis, and we have to consider not so much the
content of the behaviour as the emotional emphasis with which
it is endowed in its cultural setting.
If A gives B some object, and B receives it, these acts may
be seen, according to their setting, as: {a) a triumph for A,
an attitude which may lead either to symmetrical schismo-
genesis of the "potlatch" type or to some form of comple-
mentary schismogenesis if the asymmetry is continued ; [b) a
triumph for B, an attitude which may lead to some schismo-
genesis on the general lines of commercial rivalry, or (c) a
triumph for neither. Both giving and receiving may be seen
merely as expressions of mutual friendliness, and their con-
tinuance may lead, not to schismogenesis, but rather to closer
union between A and B.
When we are dealing with schismogenesis between two
separate individuals or groups of individuals, it is clear that
we must consider ethological emphasis as a necessary con-
dition for schismogenesis. But the question becomes more
difficult when we consider schismogenesis within a single
personality. It is probable that some condition analogous to
"ethological emphasis" must be postulated for such internal
schismogeneses, but it is not clear how this is to be phrased
without unduly personifying the separate elements in the
multiple personality: a problem which must be left to the
psychiatrists.
3, In culture contacts. I have already given an outline of
how considerations derived from the concept of schismo-
184 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
genesis should be applied to the study of culture contact.^
In my opinion, we should see the phenomena of contact as
a series of steps starting from a point at which two groups
of individuals, with entirely different cultures in each group,
come into contact. The process may end in various ways, and
the theoretically possible end-results of the process may be
enumerated: (i) the complete fusion of the two groups,
(2) the elimination of one or both groups, (3) the persistence
of both groups in dynamic equilibrium as differentiated
groups in a single major community.
At the beginning of the contact, however, at least where the
contact is one between Europeans and "primitive" people,
we cannot expect to find any simple relationship between the
ethos of the one group and that of the other. But I suspect
that in quite a short time the individuals of each group adopt
special norms of behaviour in their contacts with individuals
of the other group, and that these special norms of behaviour
will be classifiable in terms of complementary or symmetrical
patterns.
This phenomenon is clearly seen in New Guinea in the
behaviour which Europeans adopt towards natives, and in
that which the natives adopt towards Europeans. Several
hundreds of different cultures, with the greatest diversity of
ethos among them, have been concerned in this culture con-
tact, and yet one fact strikes the anthropologist as soon as he
reaches the country: the average European resident believes
that the natives of New Guinea are remarkably similar in all
parts of the country. The resident will grant that some are
better workers, and that others have more courage, but
broadly his opinion is that one "coon" is very much like
another. The basis for this opinion is, I believe, to be found
in the special behaviour which the natives adopt in their
dealings with Europeans. Apart from slight differences, the
majority of peoples of Mandated New Guinea have adopted
the same tactics in dealing with Europeans, and they have
no doubt copied each other in their methods.
Pidgin English, the language which has developed in this
culture contact, and the system of gestures and intonation
^ Man, 193s, p. 199.
and Schismogenesis 185
which are almost a part of pidgin, seem to me to be an
expression of a very definite ethos. The language has its own
cadence and special flexibility, which we may suppose adapted
to humour the sometimes assertive and always incalculable
European. I am inclined even to think that the ethos ex-
pressed in pidgin English is comparable with that which is
caricatured in American " negro-humour ".^
In any case, it is certain that for a majority of the natives
of New Guinea the ethos of pidgin contrasts sharply with
the ethos of their native cultures. This was conspicuously true
of the latmul, and the behaviour of returned labourers in the
ceremonial house, etc., was a continual source of shock to
me. I felt that it was vulgar while the behaviour of the other
natives, though it might be harsh and noisy, had never this
peculiar quality. I think that the natives who had never
worked on plantations felt shocked in the same way.
The process, however, by which two groups whose respec-
tive cultures are mutually irrelevant evolve a complementary
or symmetrical relationship in terms of behaviour which is
normal to neither group, has never been investigated. It
should, if susceptible of study, give us clues to the process
of establishment of schismogenic pairs.
Once complementary patterns of behaviour have been
established, it is my opinion that subsequent schismogenesis
is responsible for many of the antipathies and misunder-
standings which occur between groups in contact. Hand in
hand with the ethological divergence, we find the develop-
ment of structural premises which give permanence and
fixity to the split. But it is not clear to what extent these
formulations, of "colour-bar", "racial antipathy", and mu-
tual avoidance, contribute to promoting the schismogenesis.
It is possible that some of these formulations prevent it
^ Dr MacCurdy has pointed out to me an interesting detail in the
schismogenesis between negro and white in America — that the Southern
negroes in a highly differentiated schismogenic relationship with the
Southern whites are very unwilling to accept from Northern whites
behaviour patterns they would expect and demand from the whites
whom they know. Thus the patterns of behaviour developed in a schismo-
genesis cannot easily be applied in other contexts, and for an under-
standing of the equilibrium we shall need to know a great deal more than
the mere details of schismogenic behaviour.
1 86 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
from going too far. These are problems which need in-
vestigation.
Ultimately the two groups reach one of the end results
which I have listed above. Of these, we may ignore the first
two and consider only the persistence of both groups in
dynamic equilibrium, a relationship between the groups in
which the tendencies towards schismogenesis are adequately
restrained or counteracted by other social processes. This end
result is closely analogous to the state of affairs which exists
in a primitive community between any two differentiated
groups, and it is likely that a study of such equilibria as those
between the initiatory moieties or between the sexes in latmul
society will contribute to our knowledge of these equilibria,
and will enable us to handle the problems of culture contact
in a more understanding manner.
4. In politics. In the present disturbed and unstable state
of politics in Europe, there are two schismogeneses which
stand out conspicuously : (a) the symmetrical schismogenesis
in international rivalries, and {h) the complementary schismo-
genesis in "class-war". Here again, as in the other contexts
in which we have discussed schismogenesis, the progressive
evolution of behaviour towards greater and greater differen-
tiation and mutual opposition is evident, and our politicians
would appear to be as incapable of handling the process as
the schizoid is of adjusting himself to reality.
A third type of schismogenesis is of some local importance,
namely the process whereby dictators are pushed towards a
state which, in the eyes of the world, seems almost psycho-
pathic. This is a complementary schismogenesis between the
dictator on the one hand, and his officials and people on the
other. It illustrates very clearly how the megalomaniac or para-
noid forces others to respond to his condition, and so is auto-
matically pushed to more and more extreme maladjustment.
These vast and confused schismogeneses are played out amid
such complicated circumstances that it is scarcely possible
to study them. But it might conceivably be worth while
to observe to what extent in their policies politicians are
reacting to the reactions of their opponents, and to what
and Schismogenesis 187
extent they are paying attention to the conditions which they
are supposedly trying to adjust. It may be that when the
processes of schismogenesis have been studied in other and
simpler fields, the conclusions from this study may prove
applicable in politics.
THE PROGRESS AND CONTROL
OF SCHISMOGENESIS
In the absence of any carefully collected material which
would show the progress of schismogenesis in any one case,
I can only offer my opinion as to what stages are likely to
occur. In the first instance, when the complementary or
symmetrical relationship is first established, it is probable
that the patterns of behaviour which the two individuals or
two groups adopt seem to both parties to be a satisfactory
answer to a difficult problem of relationship. Such at least
would seem to be the case, for example, in the adoption of
pidgin English ethos by the natives of New Guinea, and
probably the same is true of the early stages of schismogenic
marriage. In the case of psychological maladjustments, how-
ever, I must leave it to the psychiatrists to decide whether
the initial adoption of the complementary pattern is an adap-
tive process,
f If, however, a complementary or symmetrical pattern,
when once adopted, becomes more and more emphasised by
schismogenesis, it is likely that the personalities of the indi-
viduals concerned will undergo some sort of distortion with
over-specialisation in some one direction, whether it be ex-
hibitionism, fostering, assertion, submission or what not.
With this distortion some degree of discomfort will be
introduced into the relationship, and it may even happen,
though this requires verification, that the individuals in trying
to find again the answer which was formerly satisfactory,
actually specialise even further in their respective roles.
Sooner or later, the distortion of the personalities is likely
to be accompanied by three effects : {a) a hostility in which
each party resents the other as the cause of its own distortion,
(b) at least in complementary schismogenesis, an increasing
1 88 Ethological Contrast, Competition
inability to understand the emotional reactions of the other
party, and (c) mutual jealousy.
At a comparatively late stage in the schismogenesis, when
the personalities of the members of the two groups have
definitely begun to suffer from distortion, it is probably usual
to find a development of mutual envy. The distortion is 2,
progressive specialisation in certain directions and results In
a corresponding under-development of other sides of the
personality. Thus the members of each group see the stunted
parts of their own affective life fully developed — indeed over-
developed— in the members of the opposite group. It is in
such situations that mutual envy arises. Not only do the
serfs envy the aristocrats, but the latter develop a distaste
for their own ethos and begin to crave the simple life.
It is not easy to judge how much of this mutual envy is
developed between the sexes in latmul culture. Certainly the
women take a very real pleasure in the adoption of male
clothes and ways in the naven, and this factor — mild envy
of the masculine ethos — may be regarded as an important
motive in determining their transvesticism. But in the men,
the corresponding envy cannot be detected. Outwardly, at
least, they despise the womanly ethos, but it is not impossible
that they have some unacknowledged envy of it. Their own
ethos would not, in any case, permit them to acknowledge
that there was anything to be said for the attitudes of the
women and any envy which they may have they might well
express in scorn of women — dressing in women's clothes for
the purpose.^
^ I am here indebted to Dr Karin Stephen, who on the basis of her
psycho-analytic experience in Europe suggested this possibility to me —
that unconscious jealousy of the women's ethos may be one of the motives
of the men's transvesticism.
I am very doubtful whether such a phrasing of the matter is permissible.
I have endeavoured to use references to emotions only where such
phrasing could be regarded as a rough, makeshift description of the
behaviour of individuals (cf. footnote, p. 124) and I hesitate to launch
into phrasings which would render my "behaviouristic" references to
emotion ambiguous by implying that the behaviour may be the reverse
of that primarily appropriate to the emotion.
I grant in general that theories of inversion, etc., are an attempt to
express an important truth, but I suspect that the theories cannot be
properly formulated or proven till we have techniques for analytical
description of gestures, posture, etc., and can define the differences
between inverted and direct behaviour.
and Schismogenesis 189
It is likely that the further apart the personalities evolve
and the more specialised they become, the more difficult it
will be for them each to see the other's point of view. Finally,
a point is reached where the reactions of each party are no
longer a striving after the answer which was formerly satis-
factory, but are simply the expression of distaste for the type
of emotional adjustment into which the other party has been
forced. The personalities thus become mutually contra-sug-
gestible. In place of patterns of behaviour which were perhaps
originally adopted in an attempt to fit in with the other party,
we now have patterns of behaviour which are definitely a
reaction against the other party. Thus the schismogenesis
takes a new form, and the relationship becomes less and less
stable.
If we see schismogenesis as a process in which each party
reacts to the reactions of the other, then it follows that the
differentiation must, other things being equal, proceed ac-
cording to some simple mathematical law; even that the
specialisation of each party in its particular patterns of
behaviour should follow an exponential curve if plotted
against time. We cannot, however, hope to get accurate
measurements of the progress of the phenomenon in the
majority of cases of schismogenesis, but it is possible that
in some relatively isolated case some detail of behaviour will
serve as an index of degree of specialisation, and we shall be
able to judge what sort of curve occurs in that case.
In general, however, not only is the specialisation not
susceptible of measurement, but also the progress of the
schismogenesis is likely to be modified by the most various
factors. We may mention here two types of factors which
may be supposed to precipitate and hasten the process :
{a) An individual living in a culture is trained to regard
certain patterns of behaviour as commendable, and certain
others as wrong. If, in a schismogenesis, he is led to overstep
the limits of what is culturally approved, such of his behaviour
as passes these limits is likely to have disproportionate effects,
not only in making him conscious of the distortion of his
personality, but also in driving the other party to over-drastic
replies. But against this, it must be remembered that the
190 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
cultural taboos upon certain sorts of behaviour may be active
in restraining the schismogenesis.
(6) A second factor which may well hasten the process is
a tendency to believe that its outcome will inevitably be
tragic. The schizoid individual's preoccupation with destiny
may well be not only a realisation that natural process has
got him in its clutches ; it may be a factor which hastens the
process towards its final outcome.
The picture of schismogenesis which I have so far given
is of a process inevitably advancing towards such differentia-
tion that some outside factor is bound to precipitate the final
collapse. I have described the schizoid as if his degeneration
into schizophrenia was inevitable. I have described the break-
down of marriage in such terms that it is inexplicable that any
marriage should ever be a success. I have described the
difficulties of culture contact in terms which would imply
that the final equilibrium which I mentioned could never be
achieved. But we know that, in actual practice, schizoid
individuals may maintain the same degree of maladjustment
for long periods. We know that marriages are sometimes suc-
cessful, and that they sometimes recover from an unstable
condition. We must therefore think of schismogenesis, not
as a process which goes inevitably forward, but rather as a
process of change which is in some cases either controlled or
continually counteracted by inverse processes.
The term "dynamic equilibrium" which I have applied
to these balanced states is borrowed from the jargon of
chemistry: it is there used to describe apparently stationary
equilibria which theoretically can only be described in terms
of two or more opposed chemical reactions occurring simul-
taneously. It is in a sense closely comparable with this that
I use the term in the present context. The analogy between
the dynamic equilibria which occur in human society and
those of chemistry cannot, of course, be pushed very far;
but it should serve a useful purpose in reminding us that the
position of equilibrium may vary enormously from one
schismogenesis to another and from one culture to another.
A condition of mutual opposition which would spell disaster
for many English marriages may well be an equilibrium
and Schismogenesis 191
position for marriages in other cultural settings; and the
equilibrium reached in the sex differentiation among the
latmul, with its steep ethological contrasts, is very different
from the corresponding differentiation in England. The
rivalry between initiatory moieties in latmul society would
seem to be stable, but the state of affairs which obtains
between these moieties is one in which not only ritual combat
but also continual brawls are culturally normal.
We must expect also to find a very different strength of
restraining factors in different contexts of the same culture.
I have mentioned above that the complementary patterns
which are culturally normal in a relationship between mother
and son may become, in our culture, the basis of serious
schismogenesis when they are carried over into the relationship
between man and wife. We must ask why these patterns are
dangerous in one context and safe in another; and it is
probable that we must look for the answer either in the
presence of adequate restraining factors in the one case and
their absence in the other, or in the fact that these comple-
mentary behaviour patterns are culturally expected and there-
fore easily tolerated in one relationship, while they are in
some degree culturally disparaged in another.
We have as yet no carefully collected material which will
demonstrate the existence of such processes, but from our
general knowledge of human behaviour, it is possible to make
a number of suggestions as to the nature of the factors which
restrain schismogenesis. These factors may be classified into
two main groups. We began this chapter with a consideration
of the processes which, by moulding each individual to his
appropriate ethos, tend to maintain the status quo. From this
we went on to consider schismogenesis as a process which,
if it were permitted to run its course, would bring about
changes in the status quo. Here again, in considering the
factors which control schismogenesis, we have to deal with
some whose only effect is to limit the progress of the schismo-
genesis, and with others which, if they were permitted to run
their course, would bring about changes in the status quo.
In the first category, the factors that we have to consider
are processes of the moulding of the individuals. While the
192 Ethological Contrast, Competition
latmul boy is trained to admire harshness and himself to be
harsh, he is also trained to regard certain extremes of harsh
behaviour as reprehensible. More especially he learns that
such extremes are dangerous, and that others would take
vengeance upon him if he put them into practice. There is
thus an upper limit of tolerance of assertive behaviour, and
it is likely that a similar limit of tolerance exists in the case
of exhibitionism.
In my account of latmul ethos, I have said little of its
upper limits. To a European, the emphases of latmul mascu-
line ethos are so striking that he does not easily realise that
the ethos is not only promoted to the point of harshness
which he observes, but is also prevented from developing
beyond that point. There are, however, indications in the
material which I collected which show the reality of this
upper limit of tolerance. I have mentioned that the individual
whose photograph (Plate XXII) gives the best impression of
latmul masculine ethos was actually rather too unstable for
native taste. Another example, which illustrates the position
of the man who carries latmul ethos too far, may be seen in
the story of Mwaim-nanggur {Oceania, ^932, Plate VI). This
hero had a beautiful nose, and he originated the process of
extracting sago ; but all the women loved him, and, with the
detached humour typical of the latmul, he arranged them
in two rows, those with hair on their pubes on one side and
those without on the other : he then copulated with them all.
At this point, the limiting mechanisms came into play, and
Mwaim-nanggur was murdered by the husbands of the women.
Even success in head-hunting may be carried too far, and
it is still remembered against Malenembuk, who died about
four generations ago in Palimbai, that when he was on the
prow of the war canoe he always killed and left no one for
others to kill.
In general, while the latmul culture emphasises pride and
harshness, channels are provided for the legitimate expression
of this ethos, and if a man specialises too far in violence, his
wives will run away from his house, his brothers-in-law will
turn against him, and he will live under a threat of perhaps
violent death, but certainly sorcery.
and Schismogenesis 193
Among the processes which, like schismogenesis, would be
progressive in their unrestrained action, but which may be
balanced against the latter process, we may count the fol-
lowing :
1 . It is possible that actually no healthy equilibrated rela-
tionship between two groups or two individuals is either
purely symmetrical or purely complementary, but that every
such relationship contains elements of the other type. It is
certainly easy to classify relationships into one or the other
category according to their predominant emphasis, but it is
possible that a very small admixture of complementary
behaviour in a symmetrical relationship, or a very small
admixture of symmetrical behaviour in a complementary
relationship, may go a long way towards stabilising the posi-
tion. For example, the Squire is in a predominantly comple-
mentary and not always comfortable relationship with his
villagers, but if he participates in village cricket (symmetrical
rivalry) but once a year, this may have a curiously dispro-
portionate effect in easing the schismogenic strain in the
relationship.
In latmul culture, we have noted a number of small incon-
sistencies in the ethos of each sex. In the case of the men,
we noted that two types are singled out for approbation : first
and foremost the man of violence, but after him the man
of discretion. It is possible that the trust and liking which
other individuals have for the discreet man may XVell con-
tribute an undercurrent of almost latmul-womanly ethos, in
terms of which some of the patterns of behaviour between
the sexes may be symmetrical. Among the women, we have
seen even more clearly a double emphasis running through
their ethos; while in their everyday life they are jolly and
co-operative, upon ceremonial occasions they tend towards
the proud ethos of the men. It is certain that they are then
admired by the men, and these occasions may well be of con-
siderable importance in reducing the opposition between the
sexes.
2. It is possible that where the principal emphasis in a
schismogenic relationship is upon one complementary pair
of patterns, that the admixture of complementary patterns
194 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
from another potentially schismogenic pair may stop the first
schismogenesis. To give a hypothetical case, it is likely that,
in a marriage in which there is a complementary schismo-
genesis based upon assertion-submission, illness or acci-
dent may shift the contrast to one based on fostering and
feebleness. Such a shift may bring instant relief to the
schismogenic strain, even though the schismogenesis had
previously reached the limits of cultural tolerance.
3. Similarly, a sudden change in the terms of a sym-
metrical rivalry may relieve the schismogenic strain. An
example (either of this or of No. 2) may be seen in latmul
culture in what I have termed the diversion of harshness into
buffoonery. Here we have a sudden shift in behaviour
patterns, prompted perhaps by an individual's consciousness
of strain. It is likely that this shift immediately retards or
reverses the former schismogenesis.
4. It is reasonably certain that either a complementary
or a symmetrical schismogenesis between two groups can
be checked by factors which unite the two groups either in
loyalty or opposition to some outside element. Such an
outside element may be either a symbolic individual, an
enemy people, or some quite impersonal circumstance which
gives satisfaction or misery to both groups alike. Examples
of this process are common enough: the celebration of a
Jubilee is useful in reducing the schismogenic antipathy
between the different strata of society ; and an outside war is
well known as a device for reviving a nationalism which
suffers from schismogenic splits. In latmul culture the same
mechanism presumably occurs. It is probable that head-
hunting warfare against outside communities contributed in
no small measure to control the schismogeneses between the
sexes and between the initiatory moieties; and it is possible
that nowadays the complementary relationship between na-
tives and Europeans has to some extent taken over analogous
functions.
But we may note that wherever the outside element is a
person or a community, the relationship between this outside
group and the original two groups is itself always schismo-
genic, and that this second schismogenesis may be even more
difficult to control than the first.
and Schismogenesis 195
5. The process mentioned under No. 4 presents a number
of problems, the answers to which may perhaps reveal other
mechanisms which control schismogenesis. These are the
problems of the effect of an external schismogenesis upon
the patterns of behaviour zvithin each of the groups involved
in it. The problem may be stated in almost mathematical
form : if group A has a complementary schismogenic relation-
ship with group B, what relation can we observe between the
patterns of behaviour which the members of A exhibit in
their dealings with B and the patterns of behaviour which they
exhibit in their dealings with one another? Similarly, what
are the patterns of behaviour inside group B among indi-
viduals who, in their dealings with A, exhibit patterns com-
plementary to those exhibited hy A} We should expect that,
if the schismogenic relation between A and B is permitted
to proceed to a point at which marked distortion occurs in
the personalities concerned, their behaviour inside their re-
spective groups should be markedly affected by this distortion ;
and since the direction of the distortion is different in the two
groups, we should find that in each group there is developed
a special ethos, related in some simple way to the terms of
the schismogenic contrast.
When the problem is stated in this way, it involves two
subsidiary problems. First, that of the mechanism of equi-
libration of hierarchies. In a hierarchic series, we may see
each grade as involved in a complementary schismogenic
relationship with the grade above, and in another similar
relationship with the grade below. We may suppose that the
distortion of personality caused by these schismogeneses is
to some extent relieved by the fact that in the middle groups
of the series, each individual is prompted to exhibit one set
of patterns of behaviour to members of the higher groups
and a set of complementary patterns to members of the lower
groups. But this compensation is not permitted to the highest
and the lowest members of the series, and we must expect
to see signs of unbalanced schismogenesis in these indi-
viduals.
The second problem is closely related to that of the hier-
archies. If the behaviour between individuals within each
196 Ethological Contrast^ Competition
of groups A and 5 is a function of the behaviour which each
group exhibits in its complementary relationship with the
other, then what are we to say of schismogeneses which occur,
not between groups of individuals, but between isolated pairs
of individuals ? Are we to suppose that compensations occur
within the personality of each? And is it possible to hope
that, when we know how the behaviour between individuals
is influenced by the schismogenesis in which their group is
involved, an understanding of this process will give us a jargon
for describing the compensations which occur within the
individual ? ^
6. Two special cases of the control of schismogenesis by
outside stimuli may be mentioned : {a) the possibility that if
individuals could become conscious of the schismogenic pro-
cess in which they are involved, they might react to this
rather than continue to specialise in their schismogenic
patterns; {h) in latmul culture, it is probable, not only that
the schismogenic relation between the men and the women
contributes to controlling the symmetrical schismogenesis be-
tween the initiatory moieties, but also that the latter schismo-
genesis is to some extent controlled by the orientation of the
men's attention towards the secrets of initiation. We may see
here a complicated example involving a whole series of
mechanisms of the types referred to under Nos. 4 and 5.
7. It is possible that in a complementary schismogenesis
the patterns of behaviour between the two groups concerned
may be such that, while each group diverges farther and
farther from the other, the members of each also become more
and more dependent upon the complementary behaviour of
the members of the other group, so that at some point in the
progress of the schismogenesis a balance will be reached
^ In the case of schismogenesis between groups, we noted that a
schismogenic relationship with an outside enemy might prevent schismo-
genesis between the classes within a nation, but we also noted that outside
admiration might induce a schismogenic split within the personality of an
individual. This is probably not a discrepancy between individual and
group phenomena but an indication that an external schismogenesis will
promote an internal only if both splits are in the same terms. A war
between two capitalist states may reduce the schismogenesis between
Fascists and Communists in each ; but a war with Russia, especially if
phrased as a " war against Communism ", might have very different effects.
and Schismogenesis 197
when the forces of mutual dependence are equal to the
schismogenic tendency.
8. Lastly, it is certain that a schismogenesis, besides being
controlled by other schismogeneses either inside or outside
the groups concerned, may also be counteracted by inverse
progressive changes in the relationship between the groups
concerned. These processes are, like schismogeneses, cumula-
tive results of each individual's reactions to the reactions of
members of the other group, but the inverse process differs
from schismogenesis in the direction of the change. Instead
of leading to an increase in mutual hostility, the inverse
process leads rather in the direction of mutual love.
This process occurs not only between groups but also
between pairs of individuals ; and on theoretical grounds, we
must expect that if the course of true love ever ran smooth,
it would follow an exponential curve.
CHAPTER XIV
The Expression of Ethos in Naven
SEX ETHOS AND NAVEN
TH E most important generalisation which can be drawn
from the study of latmul ethos is that in this society
each sex has its own consistent ethos which contrasts
with that of the opposite sex. Among the men, whether they
are sitting and talking in the ceremonial house, initiating a
novice, or building a house — whatever the occasion — there is
the same emphasis and value set upon pride, self-assertion,
harshness and spectacular display. This emphasis leads again
and again to over-emphasis; the tendency to histrionic be-
haviour continually diverts the harshness into irony, which
in its turn degenerates into buffooning. But though the
behaviour may vary, the underlying emotional pattern is
uniform.
Among the women we have found a different and rather
less consistent ethos. Their life is concerned primarily with
the necessary routines of food-getting and child-rearing, and
their attitudes are informed, not by pride, but rather by a
sense of "reality". They are readily co-operative, and their
emotional reactions are not jerky and spectacular, but easy
and "natural". On special occasions, it seems, the women
exhibit an ethos modelled upon that of the men, and it would
appear from our consideration of Preferred Types that cer-
tain women are admired for what we may describe as latmul-
masculine characteristics.
If we return at this point to the problems presented by
the naven ceremonies, we see these problems in a new light.
The elements of exaggeration in the wau's behaviour appear,
not as isolated oddities, but as patterns of behaviour which
are normal and ordinary in latmul men. This answer may
seem rather uninteresting but it involves a major generali-
sation about cultural behaviour, and in science every step is
a demonstration of consistency within a given sphere of
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 199
relevance. We might perhaps have studied this consistency
more fully but the answer would still have been of the same
type. To pursue the matter further we should be compelled
to shift to some other scientific discipline, e.g. to the study
of character formation.
In the case of the women, with a double emphasis running
through their ethos, their naven behaviour can be completely
classified as consistent either with their everyday ethos or
with their special occasional pride. All the behaviour of the
mother is patterned upon submission and negative self-
feeling. Her action in lying naked with the other women
while her son steps over them, and the cliche "that so small
place out of which this big man came", are perfectly in
keeping with the everyday ethos of latmul women, and
constitute a very simple expression of her vicarious pride in
her son. Thus the problem of the mother's behaviour, like
that of the waus exaggerations, may now be referred to other
scientific disciplines.
In the behaviour of the transvestite women, the father's
sister and the elder brother's wife, we may see an expression
of the occasional pride such as women exhibit on the rare
occasions when they perform publicly with men as an audience.
Examination of latmul ethos has accounted for the tone
of behaviour of the various relatives in naven, but there are
many details which cannot be thus summarily dismissed.
Consider the wau: his buffooning is normal, but that is no
reason why he should dress as a woman in order to be a
buffoon, and, as we have seen above, the structural premises
within the culture, whereby the wau might regard himself
as the laua's wife, are still not a dynamic factor which would
compel either the community or the wau to emphasise this
aspect of the wau-laua relationship. We have still to find some
component of the naven situation which shall act in a dynamic
way to induce transvesticism.
I believe that we may find an answer to this problem if
we examine the incidence of transvesticism in European
society. In the naven, the phenomenon is not due to abnormal
hormones nor yet to the psychological or cultural malad-
justment of the transvestites ; and therefore in looking for
200 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
analogous phenomena in Europe we may ignore the aberrant
cases and should examine rather the contexts in which some
degree of transvesticism is culturally normal.
Let us consider the case of the fashionable horsewoman.
Her breeches we may perhaps regard as a special adaptation,
and she will say that her bowler hat is specially designed to
protect her head from overhanging trees: but what of her
coat, tailored on decidedly masculine lines? She wears
feminine evening dress at the hunt ball, and her everyday
behaviour is that of a culturally normal woman, so that we
cannot explain her transvesticism by a reference to her glands
or abnormal psychology.
The facts of the matter are clear : a culturally and physically
normal woman wears, in order to ride a horse, a costume
unusual for her sex and patterned on that of the opposite
sex ; and the conclusion from these facts is equally obvious :
since the woman is normal, the unusual element must be
introduced by the act of riding a horse. In one sense, of
course, there is nothing exceptional in a woman's riding —
women have ridden horses for hundreds of years in the
history of our culture. But if we compare the activity of
riding a horse with other activities which our culture has
decreed suitable and proper for women, we see at once that
horse-riding, which demands violent activity and gives a great
sense of physical mastery,^ contrasts sharply with the great
majority of situations in a woman's life.
The ethos of women in our culture has been built up
around certain types of situation and that of men around very
different situations. The result is that women, placed by
culture in a situation which is unusual for them but which is
usual for men, have contrived a transvestite costume, and this
costume has been accepted by the community as appropriate
to these abnormal situations.
With this hint of the sort of situation in which trans-
^ In Freudian phrasing the act of riding a horse might be regarded
as sexually symbolic. The difference between the point of view which
I advocate and that of the Freudians is essentially this : that I regard
such sexual symbols as noses, flutes, wagan, etc., as symbolic of sex ethos,
and I would even see in the sexual act one more context in which this
ethos is expressed.
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 201
vesticism may be developed, we may return to latmul culture.
First let us consider the contexts in which partial trans-
vesticism occurs, namely, in the case of women who take part
in spectacular ceremonies (cf. Plate XIX). Their position is
very closely analogous to that of the horsewoman. The normal
life of latmul women is quiet and unostentatious, while that
of the men is noisy and ostentatious. When women take part
in spectacular ceremonial they are doing something which is
foreign to the norms of their own existence, but which is
normal for men — and so we find them adopting for these
special occasions bits of the culture of the men, holding them-
selves like men^ and wearing ornaments which are normally
only worn by men.
Looking at the naven ceremonies in the light of this theory
we can recognise in the naven situation conditions which
might influence either sex towards transvesticism. The situa-
tion may be summed up by saying that a child has accom-
plished some notable feat and its relatives are to express, in
a public manner, their joy in this event. This situation is one
which is foreign to the normal settings of the life of either
sex. The men by their unreal spectacular life are perfectly
habituated to the " ordeal " of public performance. But they
are not accustomed to the free expression of vicarious per-
sonal emotion. Anger and scorn they can express with a good
deal of over-compensation, and joy and sorrow they can
express when it is their own pride which is enhanced or
abased ; but to express joy in the achievements of another is
outside the norms of their behaviour.
In the case of the women the position is reversed. Their
co-operative life has made them capable of the easy expres-
sion of unselfish joy and sorrow, but it has not taught them
to assume a public spectacular role.
Thus the naven situation contains two components, the
^ In theatrical representations, humorous journalism and the like,
there is a common belief that the postures, gestures, tones of the voice,
etc., of the horsewoman are to some extent modelled on those of men,
and we might see in this an analogy with the proud gestures of the trans-
vestite and semi-transvestite latmul women. I am uncertain, however,
to what extent these postures, etc., of the horsewoman occur in real life,
and whether they are not perhaps imaginary.
202 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
element of public display and the element of vicarious per-
sonal emotion ; and each sex, when it is placed by culture in
this situation, is faced by one component which is easily
acceptable, while the other component is embarrassing and
smacks rather of situations normal to the life of the opposite
sex. This embarrassment we may, I think, regard as a dy-
namic^ force which pushes the individual towards trans-
vesticism — and to a transvesticism which the community has
been able to accept and which in course of time has become
a cultural norm.
Thus the contrasting ethos of the two sexes may be sup-
posed to play and to have played in the past a very real part
in the shaping of the naven ceremonies. It has provided the
little push which has led the culture to follow its structural
premises to the extremes which I have described. When the
women take part in spectacular ceremonial other than naven,
the structural premises which might justify complete trans-
vesticism are lacking, and the women content themselves with
wearing only a few masculine ornaments.
Lastly we may consider the adoption of widow's weeds by
the wau and the wearing by the women of the best masculine
ornaments obtainable. The former is no doubt a buffooning
expression of the men's distaste for the women's ethos. We
have seen that the context of mourning is one in which the
differing ethos of the two sexes contrasts most strongly and
most uncomfortably, and the wearing of a widow's weeds by
the wau is clearly on all fours with the men's trick of carica-
turing the dirging of the solitary widow as she paddles her
canoe to her garden. In shaming himself he is, incidentally,
expressing his contempt for the whole ethos of those who
express grief so easily.
The women on the other hand have no discernible con-
tempt for the proud male ethos. It is the ethos appropriate
to spectacular display, and in the naven they adopt as much
of that ethos as possible — and even exaggerate it, gaily
scraping the lime sticks in their husbands' gourds till the
serrations are quite worn away. Here it would seem that
^ Cf. footnote, p. 121.
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 203
their joy in wearing masculine ornaments and carrying on in
the swaggering ways of men has somewhat distracted them
from the business in hand — that of celebrating the achieve-
ment of a small child. Apart from the one incident in which
the women lie down naked while the hero steps over them,
the naven behaviour of the women is actually as irrelevant
as that of the men. Thus the presence of contrasting ethos
in the two sexes has almost completely diverted the
naven ceremonial from simple reference to its ostensible
object.
Nevertheless, since naven behaviour is the conventional
way in which a wau congratulates his laua upon any achieve-
ment, there is no doubt that this behaviour, distorted and
irrelevant as it may seem to us, is yet understood by the laua
as a form of congratulation.
KINSHIP MOTIVATION AND NAVEN
I have shown above how the naven ceremonial is an expres-
sion of sex ethos, that is to say, I have shown the motives
which we may attribute to the relatives concerned in naven
qua members of one or the other sex. And this attribution
of motive was an extrapolation from general conclusions
which we drew from the ethos of latmul culture. We have
now to consider the motivation of the various relatives qua
men and women in particular kinship positions. Here again
we shall use our general ethological conclusions to guide us
in selecting the motives which we attribute to the various
relatives. But instead of dealing with the relatives in groups
according to their sex, we must examine the kinship motiva-
tion of each type of relative separately :
wau (mother's brother). In the case of the wau, the
symbolism of his behaviour is in a structural sense clearly
interpretable in terms of his position as " mother " and "wife "
of the laua. But symbolism has always more than a struc-
tural side, and we should see the symbolic acts — the rubbing
of the male laua's shin with the buttocks, and the giving
204 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
birth to the female laua — as acts informed with emotion
and inarticulate^ reference, as well as with "logic".
We have therefore to consider what motivation, conscious
or otherwise, real or culturally presumed, leads the wau
to stress these particular aspects of his relationship with his
laua.
The undoubted fact that any emotion and inarticulate
motivation which we may impute to the classificatory wau
will be factitious need not cause us any dismay; indeed, it
would be difficult to explain any ritual without invoking as
its mainstay the very real force of trumped-up or culturally
presumed emotion.
In the chapter dealing with the sociology of naven we have
seen that the classificatory wau is attempting to bolster up
the allegiance between himself and his laua. He is trying to
bring this classificatory tie into such prominence that it shall
have the binding power of a tie between a boy and his own
mother's brother — perhaps even the binding power of the
tie with own mother. Symbolically, he does this by acting
out two sides, the maternal and the wifely, of the own mother's
brother's relationship with the laua. But it is questionable
to what extent real wifely or maternal emotion can be at-
tributed even to the own wau\ so that the performance of
the classificatory zvau contains, in a sense, two degrees of
falsity. He is acting the part of an own wau who is acting
the parts of mother and wife.
In spite of this, it is still worth while to consider the motiva-
tion of the performances. The fact that the behaviour is acted
rather than spontaneous will not, of course, render the motiva-
tions which it portrays any the less unconscious. An actor
playing Hamlet may behave as if he himself were driven by
Hamlet's emotions, but the actor may remain to a great
extent inarticulate as to the nature of the drives which he
is expressing.
^ In the present context, I have deliberately written "inarticulate" in
preference to the more fashionable "unconscious". It is to me not
perfectly clear that there is any diflTerence in meaning between these two
terms, but the use of the second would imply adherence to a theory of
the stratification of mind with the validity of which we are not here
concerned.
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 205
We have to consider, then, the psychology of two^ persons :
1. The real motivation of the classificatory wau. Under
this head will fall the series of emotional factors which have
already been sufficiently indicated: his pleasure in his own
buffooning performance ; his scorn of the female ethos ; his
awkwardness in expressing vicarious pride; his desire for
the allegiance of the laua, etc.
2. The inarticulately presumed motivations of the own
wau. Under this head we have to consider possible drives
which might lead a wau to stress the maternal and wifely
sides of his relationship with his laua.
Here we are on very treacherous ground, since it is singu-
larly easy to construct hypotheses about inarticulate motiva-
tion, but exceedingly difficult to test them, since no two such
hypotheses are ever mutually exclusive, and the psycho-
analysts will tell us to regard every native statement as
meaning either what it says, or the opposite. I shall, however,
put forward a series of possible hypotheses in order to indi-
cate what sort of answer may be expected in the present case,
but I would not stress any one hypothesis as more probable
than others which might be constructed.
In this connection there are three myths which are probably
relevant. These are all stories in which a wau kills his laua.
In each case the murder is followed by a more or less com-
plete disintegration of the community, and the myth be-
comes a history of colonisation — of the scattering of groups
from the disintegrated centre.
These myths may be (i) a reference to the importance of
matrilineal ties in the integration of the community, or (2) the
expression of an underlying opposition or slight hostility
between wau and laua. These interpretations are not mutually
exclusive. Rather, I believe that we should see the two inter-
pretations as mutually supplementary. On the one hand, the
sociological importance of the tie may well lead to an increased
uneasiness about the opposition which is inherent in it, while
on the other hand, if there were no opposition between wau
and laua, there would be no need to stress the sociological
^ In the rarer cases in which own wau performs naven, the matter is, of
course, simpler, and the second set of emotions proportionately more real.
2o6 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
importance of allegiance between them. In general, the
myths may be taken as an indication of some opposition
between wau and laua and some uneasiness about that opposi-
tion. In fact, it would appear that the wau-laua relationship
is ambivalent.
It is in such ambivalent feelings that we may expect to
find the motives for the zvau's symbolic behaviour and we
must therefore examine the wau-laua relationship to find
what aspects of it may be regarded as the cause of these
mixed feelings.
We have not far to seek for the basis of the wau's friendly
feelings for his laua, since the two are united by ties of
allegiance and conmion interest. Following the lines of our
structural analysis, we may attribute the zoau's friendly
feelings to any and all of the four identifications which define
his position. But the basis for the trace of hostility is more
obscure. In our structural analysis we found that the wau-
laua relationship contains little or nothing which might be
regarded as sui generis, and that all its details could be classi-
fied satisfactorily as due to the various identifications of the
wau as (a) mother, (b) wife, (c) wife's brother, and (d) father
of his laua.
It is therefore reasonable in our search for the basis of the
wau's hostihty to suppose that this arises from one or other
of these aspects of the relationship.^ Of these aspects, the
last, that due to the waus identification with the father, might
perhaps give a possible phrasing of the waus hostility as an
expression of the ambivalent situation between father and
son. But I think that this solution must be dismissed, for
two reasons:
1. This solution is incompatible with the fact that, not
only the wau, but also the wife's brother sometimes rubs his
buttocks on his sister's husband's leg, when the latter marries
his sister.
2. The identification of wau with father is only a very
minor motif in the patterning of the wau-laua relationship.
^ It is, of course, possible that the luau's "hostility" may be due in
part to interaction between two or more of these aspects of his position.
This complicated type of explanation I have ignored in favour of the
simpler solution based upon the brother-in-law relationship.
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 207
Of the three remaining aspects of the wau-laua relation-
ship, two, the maternal and the wifely, may likewise be
excluded on various grounds :
1. These are the aspects which are actually stressed in
the naven and, though it is conceivably possible that the wau
might stress those very aspects which were the cause of his
trace of hostility, it is much more likely that he gets relief
from his uneasiness by stressing the other aspects.
2. It is exceedingly difficult and perhaps impossible, if we
attribute the basis of the opposition to either of these aspects,
to construct any theory which will cover the waw's naven
behaviour to lauas, of both sexes, and the naven behaviour
of the wife's brother,
3 . The mother's relationship to her child is not ambivalent.
We are therefore driven to conclude that the zvau's trace
of hostility is due to his position as a brother-in-law of his
laua. And on this theory we may see, in his stressing of the
"mother" and "wife" relationships, a denial of his position
as wife's brother.
This theory receives support from examination of the
brother-in-law relationship, since we can clearly detect ele-
ments of opposition^ in that relationship (cf. p. 78). But the
position is still not perfectly clear. The familiar processes of
compensation and displacement cannot be appealed to in
the present case. Typically, the wau having ambivalent feelings
towards his sister's husband might either exaggerate his
friendliness in his dealings with that relative, or he might
vent his hostility upon the laua who would then be a substi-
tute for the sister's husband. In practice, he does neither
of these things, but exaggerates his friendliness towards his
laua rather than his hostility. Further, there is no reason
why the hostility felt for the sister's husband should be dis-
placed on to the laua. We have seen that in general this
^ It should be possible to demonstrate that tatvontu's (wife's brother's)
hostility is consistent with the male ethos of the culture, and I think
that the clue to this problem perhaps lies in a pride which the men occa-
sionally exhibit, a pride in the possession of women-folk. Cf. also the
cliche "She is a fine woman" as a justification for endogamy (p. 91).
Unfortunately I have not the detailed material necessary for a comparison
of attitudes of men towards their sisters with the general male ethos.
2o8 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
hostility is openly handled and acknowledged. The brothers-
in-law may either joke about their mutual obligations ; or, if
the wife's brother's resentment grows strong, he is expected
to have recourse to sorcery. It is true that the quarrels of
brothers-in-law are phrased in terms of indebtedness and
bride price in a context in which a Freudian might suspect
sexual jealousy to be the underlying motive, but still the
hostile feelings of the wife's brother are in no sense denied
expression. There is nothing in all this which would lead
him to seek a substitute for his sister's husband.
It is, however, possible to see the wau as a man guilty of
overt hostility to his sister's marriage, who therefore makes
exaggerated amends to her child, and a tenable hypothesis
can be constructed upon this basis. But, equally, we may
see the wau, not as a guilty man making amends, but as an
innocent man protesting his innocence. He may have op-
posed his sister's marriage and have harboured ill-feeling
for her husband. In any case it is culturally assumed that
some opposition exists between brothers-in-law. But he has
no quarrel with the offspring of that marriage, who are indeed
connected with him by blood,^ interest and allegiance. The
offspring, however, are also connected no less intimately with
the father, and it is this fact which might constitute an
imputation that the wau is perhaps hostile towards them. It
suggests that the zvau's hostility, previously centred on the
sister's husband, might perhaps spread to include the laua.
This imputation the zvau is perhaps denying when he stresses
the fact that he is a mother and a wife.
Similar phenomena occur in our own culture, and it is not
uncommon to see uncles and aunts who have consistently
opposed the parents' marriage later falling over themselves
in their efforts to make friends with their nephews and nieces.
Their position is analogous to that of the latmul wau, and
the chief difference between them is that the latter falls over,
not metaphorically, but really.
Whether we see these agnatic relatives as innocent persons
^ In the native theory of conception, blood and flesh are believed to
be products of the mother, while the bones of the child are contributed
by the father.
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 209
protesting their innocence or as guilty persons making amends,
will depend — in the absence of additional facts — upon the
view which we take of psycho-analytic theory. We may even,
according to our taste, combine the two hypotheses and say
that the wau, guilty of overt hostility towards his sister's
husband, therefore protests his innocence with the greater
emphasis when a similar offence is imputed to him by the
circumstances of his relationship with his laua, about whom
he really feels innocent. A whole series of varying phrasings
of this sort may be devised, and each of them will perhaps
be untrue, because it will err on the side of being too definite ;
while any attempt to choose between them will be based
upon the fallacy that the less articulate levels of the mind
are as discriminating and as precise as the scientist.^
In any case, we may add to our list of factors affecting
the zvau's position the opposition which is present in the
brother-in-law relationship and its repercussions upon that
between wau and laua^ without defining the exact mechanism
of these repercussions. Further, it may be noted that these
additional factors may be regarded as to some extent dynamic
— as pushing the wau towards transvesticism along the lines
laid down in the structure of the kinship system.
Finally, one other possible motive for the wam's behaviour
in naven may be mentioned. We have seen in our considera-
tion of the boy's relationship to his father's and his mother's
clans that, while in matters of economics the boy is grouped
with his father, his feats are regarded as the achievements of
his mother's clan (cf. p. 48). In view of these premises, we
may suppose that the naven behaviour of the wau is an act
which symbolically lays claim to the laua's achievement, and
the value which this culture sets upon pride and achievement
no doubt here plays a part. But such a claim can only be
vicarious, and here the male sex ethos is again relevant and
^ It is, however, possible that a more detailed study of the standardised
attitudes and behaviour of the men, when though innocent they are
accused and again when, guilty, they are making amends, might make
possible a more definite statement of the zvati's motives. To some extent,
at least, the vagueness of the statement here offered is the inevitable result
of attempting an analysis of motives with an insufficient knowledge of
the ethology of the culture.
2IO The Expression of Ethos in Naven
indicates that in this act the wau will be playing the role of
a woman. Thus sex ethos and kinship position work together,
and each is expressed in the waiis behaviour.
tawontu (wife's brother). From what has been said of the
wau in naven, it might appear that the tawontu's behaviour,
in rubbing his buttocks on his lando's shin on the occasion
of the latter's marriage, is in some sense the primary form
of naven. We are, however, not engaged in a study of the
history of naven, and it is certain that at the present time this
particular gesture is regarded as especially characteristic of
the wau.
The factors which affect the two relatives are alike in many
respects, but the behaviour of tawontu differs from that of
wau in certain significant details: (i) The tawontu performs
only that ritual which stresses his position as "wife" and
omits that which would imply that he is a mother — an
omission which is no doubt correlated with his structural
position. (2) The tawontu, so far as I know, only performs
his gesture on the occasion of the marriage of his sister.
(3) It is, I believe, only the own wife's brother who performs
in this way, whereas in the case of wau, it is usually the classi-
ficatory relative who performs naven.
The second and third of these points of difference are
probably connected with the fact that in general the tawontu
is not constrained to hide or deny the ambivalence of his
feelings. But on the occasion of his sister's marriage — a
marriage which he himself has perhaps arranged (cf. p. 79) —
it is understandable that he may feel constrained to deny
the existence of any trace of hostility ^ towards her husband ;
and this denial he expresses by emphasising the fact that
he is not an affinal relative, but a partner in the marriage,
a "wife-man ".2
nyai' , nyamun and tshuamho (father, elder brother and
younger brother). The only other male relatives whose posi-
tion we have to consider are the father and brothers of the
^ As in the case of wau, various phrasings of the tawontu s motives
may be substituted for that here given.
' Literal translation of the term tawontu (tagwa-ndo = wiie-man).
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 211
hero. All these relatives may take a passive part in naven;
they may be beaten by their tshaishi (elder brothers' wives)
and the father may help the hero to find valuables to present
to his wau. But, apart from being thus secondarily involved,
neither father nor brothers take any active part in naven.
Since, however, his father and brothers are the boy's
nearest male relatives, we might reasonably expect that they
too would feel impelled to celebrate his achievements; it
therefore becomes necessary to account for their inactivity.
We may first consider the conditions — sociological, eco-
nomic, structural and emotional — which are probably con-
nected with the father's inactivity :
1 . There is no increase in the integration of the community
to be gained by a further stressing of the patrilineal links.
In such a society as that of the latmul, the solidarity within
any group depends to a very great extent upon opposition
between that group and others outside it: at the same time,
it is probable that the greater the solidarity within a group
and the greater its strength, the more likely it is to oppose
other groups or to ignore its obligations to them. From this
it follows that any further strengthening of the patrilineal
ties may lead to a weakening of those matrilineal and affinal
ties upon which, as we have seen, the integration of the com-
munity depends.
2. On the economic side, there is no occasion for presenta-
tion of valuables between father and son, because the respec-
tive property rights of these two relatives are very much less
differentiated than those of wau and laua. Father and son
do not hold their property on a communal basis and there
is, as we have seen, a strong feeling against the father accepting
food from the son: but there is a general assumption that
the son will inherit or is already inheriting from the father,
and that the father will do what he can to provide his son
with valuables for bride price, etc. Such gifts from father to
son are not in any way comparable with the ceremonial
presentations^ which take place between wau and laua.
^ It would seem that in latmul culture ceremonial giving does not
occur in purely complementary relationships. It is perhaps a device for
stressing the complementary aspects of mixed relationships. (Cf. p. 270.)
212 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
Similar considerations apply to the relationship between
brothers. They do not hold their property on a communal
basis, but the differentiation of their respective rights is still
so vague that they are culturally expected to quarrel over
their patrimony.
3 . There are no elements in the structural position whereby
either father or brothers might divert their celebration of the
boy's achievement into some form of buffoonery, by acting
the part of some other relative. If they were to take any part
in the naven they would be compelled (like the mother) to
stress their own relationships with the hero.
4. This last consideration brings us to a very real positive
bar on any naven activity on the part of the father. His
relationship with his son is, as we have seen, ambivalent;
but the ambivalence is not of a sort which can be relieved
by stressing either of its components. The father is, on the
one hand, a disciplinary authority and, on the other, he is a
relative who is expected to give way before his son's advance-
ment. The excessive stressing of either of these aspects of
the paternal relationship leads at once to the embarrassment
of both parties, and we have seen that in daily life father and
son pattern their behaviour on a rigid middle course, avoiding
even any display of mutual intimacy. In such a situation it
is clear that the father could not in the naven stress or
dramatise either aspect of his relationship with his son.
It would seem that even the passive role played by the
father, in being beaten by his tshaishi, is to some extent
incompatible with his kinship position. I was told (but I did
not observe this) that the own father would be only slightly
beaten, but the tshambwi nyai' (father's younger brother)
would be very much more severely beaten.
We may note the contrast between the father's position
and that of the wau. The latter's kinship position is defined
in terms of his various identifications ; one of these identifica-
tions {qua wife's brother) is embarrassing, and he escapes
from this by emphasising the others. But the father has a
unitary relationship with his son which is not subdivisible
in this way. Although his feelings towards his son are cul-
turally presumed to be ambivalent, he cannot dodge the whole
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 213
issue by stressing some other side of his position, and if he
stressed either half of his ambivalent position he would be
embarrassed.
In the case of elder and younger brothers, the positive
bar is less clear: but the relationship between brothers is
certainly felt to be analogous to that between father and son,
though the issues between them are less dramatically and less
rigidly defined. On the one hand, brothers are expected to
be allies as over against outsiders, but between themselves
they are culturally expected to quarrel over the patrimony,
and the elder brother has some authority over the younger.
I was told (but never observed this) that there is some
avoidance between brothers: they would not walk about
together much; they would go together in order to do some-
thing, but would not do so without a definite purpose. Thus
their relationship contains the germ of the same type of
ambivalence as that which exists between father and son.^
Turning now to the naven behaviour of the women we find
a very considerable difference between their motivation and
that of the men. It is possible that this impression is due
to the inadequacy of my information, but I believe that the
contrast is a real one.
In the case of the wau we have found that his behaviour
is an expression of the following factors :
1. His structural position in the kinship system and the
various identifications which define it.
2. The male sex ethos of latmul culture.
3. His need for the allegiance of his laua.
4. The ambivalence implied in his kinship position.
5. Economic considerations.
But the women, so far as I know, are not influenced in their
naven by any motives of the last three types. Rather, I believe
that we should see the women's naven as almost solely the
expression of their ethos and of the structural identifications
implied in their kinship status. I am inclined to see the naven
^ As evidence that this relationship is really felt to be analogous to
that between father and son cf. the staggering of brothers (p. 246) and
the use of the refrain " nyaV nya! nyamun a!" in name songs (footnote,
P- 39)-
214 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
of the zcau as in some sense primary and as seriously moti-
vated by desire for allegiance, economic gain, etc., while
I would see the naven of the women as an amusement, a gay
occasion when they embroider upon structural premises
analogous to those followed by the wau and when they enjoy
the special privilege of wearing men's attire.
In the case of the wau, we observed that only one or two
waiis usually take part, and that these were especially the
classificatory relatives. But there is no such rule in the case
of the women. When the children came back from sago-
making and a naven was celebrated for them in Mindimbit,
it appeared as if all the women had gone mad. Every woman
who could regard herself as appropriately related to the
children made a show of naven behaviour.
Moreover, in the naven for the successful homicide I was
told that all the women, with the exception of the hero's
wife and own sister, lie down on the ground for the hero
to stride across them. In this detail we see a pattern of
behaviour, which is perhaps primarily characteristic of the
mother, being adopted by the other women not according
to the details of their kinship status, but simply in virtue of
their sex. While the naven of the men is in part controlled
and motivated by advantages which the exploitation of their
kinship position may bring, that of the women is apparently
almost devoid of such motivation.
Correspondingly, on the sociological side I believe that
we should see the function of the women's naven as much
more diffuse than that of the wau's naven. While the latter
strengthens the solidarity of the community by emphasising
certain specific afiinal linkages, the former seems rather to
spread a more diffuse euphoria throughout the community.
One other point which the naven behaviour of the women
contrasts with that of men may be mentioned. The wau
stresses, in his naven, emotions which are freely and easily
expressed by the "mother " whom he imitates, but the women
in their naven exaggerate special aspects of the father's and
elder brother's position which these relatives could not freely
express without embarrassment. The father must repress his
disciplinary activities and give way before his son, but the
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 215
women have picked upon the disciplinary aspect of father-
hood for exaggeration in naven. We cannot of course suppose
that the repressed emotions of a father are a dynamic force
in the shaping of the women's behaviour. But it may be that
the women get some extra excitement out of thus exaggerating
attitudes which are to some extent culturally taboo in the
relatives whom they are aping.
At the beginning of this chapter I have already indicated
the ethological basis of the women's behaviour, the enjoy-
ment which they get out of their swashbuckling and swagger,
and the way in which transvesticism goes hand in hand with
public performance. It only remains therefore to consider
the symbolism of the various details :
nyame (mother). The behaviour of the mother we have
already seen to be a simple straightforward expression of the
latmul mother's pride in her son. There is in her case no
structural basis for transvesticism, and her feelings about her
child are not markedly ambivalent; therefore there is in her
behaviour none of the elaboration present in that of the other
relatives. As to the nakedness of the mother in naven, we
may compare this with the other contexts in which women
are ceremonially naked, namely, during the burial of their
nearest male relatives (cf. p. 154), and when they go as
suppliants (cf. p. 146). It may seem odd that the mother
should adopt exactly the same gesture both to express distress
and to rejoice in her son's achievement. But I think that we
may regard nakedness in all these three contexts as an extreme
expression of abnegation or negative self-feeling, an expres-
sion which may be accompanied either by joy or sorrow.
iau (father's sister). The naven behaviour of the iau is
based upon her identification with her brother, the father
of the hero. In this identification there are clearly two possi-
bilities which might be stressed. The relationship of a father
to his son is, as we have seen, ambivalent; the father being
impelled both to assert his authority and to give way before
his son's advancement. Either of these aspects of the ambi-
valent relationship might have been adopted by the iau, and
she has actually chosen the assertive side of fatherhood ; she
2i6 The Expression of Ethos in Naven
puts on the finest of homicidal ornaments and beats her
" son ". The alternative behaviour would have been to drama-
tise the father's retirement at his son's achievement. We may
suppose that such a role would be to a latmul woman rather
uninteresting and inappropriate to her transvesticism. She
would be adopting male costume merely to play a role more
appropriate to female ethos.
There is so far as I know no detail of dramatisation
referring to the possibility that the hero may marry iau's
daughter ; and the absence of such a feature may be noted as
additional evidence for supposing that this marriage is a
recent innovation (see footnote, p. 90).
tshaishi (elder brother's wife). The behaviour of tshaishi
is based upon her identification with her husband, the hero's
elder brother; and to a very great extent her behaviour and
kinship position are comparable with those of the iau. We
have already seen that an elder brother is in a position
analogous to that of father, so that tshaishi identifying herself
with the elder brother is in a position analogous to that of iau
who identifies herself with the father.
The only special feature in the tshaishi's position may be
correlated with the levirate whereby it is likely that she will
one day be the hero's wife. This possibility no doubt lends
a certain piquancy to the tshaishi s naven and is exploited
to the full in the incident in which the hero spears a fish trap,
the symbol of his tshaishi' s womb. The same aspect of the
relationship is again embroidered upon in the behaviour of
the hero's sister.
nyanggai (sister). This relative plays but little part in the
naven, but she is identified with the hero on the occasion
when both step across the prostrate women. Then the sister
expresses with exaggerated dramatisation what we (or she)
may suppose to be the repressed desires of the hero. She
attacks the genitals of the women with her hands and especially
those of tshaishi. Upon these she pounces with the exclamation
"A vulva!" but the transvestite tshaishi replies "No! A
penis ! " This disagreement between them is, no doubt, due
to the fact that the sister regards herself as the potential
The Expression of Ethos in Naven 217
husband of tshaishi while the tshaishi regards herself as
potentially an elder brother of the hero.
mbora (mother's brother's wife). This relative identifies
herself with the wau. Like him she dances with the captured
head (cf. Plate V a) and receives presentations of valuables
from the laua. Inasmuch as she is identified with a man who
is himself transvestite, it is not surprising to find that the
mbora seems to be in some doubt about her sex, so that she
appears in naven dressed sometimes as a man and sometimes
as a woman. Finally, the confusion on this subject would
seem to be resolved when she, acting as a man, goes through
a ritual copulation with her transvestite husband.
One incident remains to be considered, that in which the
iauSy in male costume and carrying a feather headdress, come
striding across the prostrate mboras (also in male costume).
Of this I can give only a tentative explanation. We have seen
that pride in a man's achievements is regarded as the preroga-
tive not of his father's clan, to which he himself belongs, but
rather of his mother's clan. It would seem that in this piece
of fooling the feather headdress is a homicidal ornament.^
The taus (members of the hero's father's clan) come, as it
were, boasting of the achievement. They stride across the
mboras, who lie on the ground, as the mother lies before her
triumphant son. Both their posture and the fact that mbora
is identified with wau would seem to indicate that the mboras
are representatives of the maternal clan. They jump to their
feet and snatch the feather ornament, the symbol of achieve-
ment, symbolically claiming it as the triumph of the maternal
clan.
A piece of supporting evidence for this interpretation may
be found in the fact that homicidal ornaments are usually
presented by his lanoa nampa (husband people) to the killer.
This would be consistent with the interpretation which I have
put forward.
^ Unfortunately my informant did not give me the native term for
the particular ornament used in this context. He only stated that feathers
were stuck into pith, the usual technique in making certain sorts of
homicidal headdress. It is probable, however, that the ornament is a
badge of homicide.
CHAPTER XV
The Eidos of latmul Culture
FROM the foregoing analysis and from the general descrip-
tions which have been given of latmul culture, it is
evident that this culture has some general pervasive
character other than that which it derives from its charac-
teristic ethos. It is a culture which continually surprises us
by the mass of structural detail which it has built up around
certain contexts. Most conspicuously we have the fabric of
fancy heraldry and totemism built up around the personal
names and ancestors : but a similar tendency to what we can
only describe as hypertrophy may be recognised in the initia-
tory system, with its plexus of cross-cutting dual divisions
and staggered initiatory grades ; and again in the naven cere-
monial, where we have seen that the culture has proceeded
upon simple structural premises to such lengths that the wau
behaves as in some sense a wife of the laua.
The culture has apparently some internal tendency to
complexity, some property which drives it on to the fabrica-
tion and maintenance of more and more elaborate constructs,
and since this tendency has evidently contributed to the
shaping of naven, it is relevant to examine its nature in detail.
I often wondered about this property of the culture when
I was in the field, but never saw any clue to an understanding
of it. It was only after, in the writing of this book, I had
worked out and defined cultural structure and ethos, that
I was able to see an approach to the present problem. I did
not in the field pay any special attention to the points which
I know now might have thrown light on this problem, but
since my approach has been but little attempted by others
I will give what material I have in order to illustrate the
method.
I defined cultural structure as "a collective term for the
coherent 'logical' system which may be constructed by the
scientist, fitting together the various premises of the culture ",
The Eidos of latmul Culture 219
and to the word "logical" I added a footnote to the effect
that we must expect to find different systems of logic, dif-
ferent modes of building together of premises, in different
cultures.
The first point in this definition which we have to consider
is the role of the scientist. I said that cultural structure was
a system built up by the scientist, and we may phrase our
present problem in these terms: why should the materials
of latmul culture drive the abstracting scientist to greater
complexities of exposition than are demanded by, for ex-
ample, the culture of the Arapesh?^ Is this complexity of
exposition the reflection of a real complexity in the culture,
or is it only an accidental product resulting perhaps from a
disparity between the language and culture of the ethno-
grapher and those of the community he is describing?
Here we are on very difficult ground, and the scientist
who has set out the exposition is perhaps the man least
fitted to judge of the origin of its complexity. I can only
say, first, that the latmul culture appeared to me complex
and rich before I even attempted a structural analysis, and
secondly, that the result of analysis has been to cause the
culture to appear, to me at least, not more complex, but
simpler. I can only trust to these impressions as evidence
that the complexity is not entirely a creation of my own
methods of thinking.^
This complexity, then, exists in some form in the culture
itself, and is built up of premises. The word premise was
defined as an assumption or implication recognisable in a
number of details of cultural behaviour, and I mentioned
that though these assumptions are often only expressed in
symbolic terms, in other cases they are articulately stated by
the natives.
If we accept {a) that the complexity of the cultural struc-
ture is a reflection of some property of the culture itself, and
[h) that the elements of this complexity are to some extent
^ Cf. Margaret Mead, Sex and Temperament.
^ To some extent my methods of thinking — structural, ethological and
sociological — are followed by the natives themselves. This matter is dis-
cussed ar the end of this chapter (p. 250).
220 The Eidos of latmul Culture
present as ideas or assumptions in the minds of the natives,
then it follows that any pervasive characteristic of the cultural
structure can be referred to peculiarities of the latmul mind ;
that, in fact, we are here dealing with the cultural expression
of cognitive or intellectual aspects of latmul personality.
So stated, the problem appears closely analogous to that
of ethos. In each case we have to account for a generalised
tendency which shows itself in the most diverse contexts of
the culture, and it would seem that the tendency which we
are now investigating bears the same relation to cultural
structure as that which ethos bears to motivation. We have
seen that ethos constitutes a factor in the determination of
the needs and desires of the individuals, and this factor varies
from culture to culture. Ethos is the system of emotional
attitudes which governs what value a community shall set
upon the various satisfactions or dissatisfactions which the
contexts of life may offer, and we have seen that ethos may
satisfactorily be regarded as "the culturally standardised
system of organisation of the instincts and emotions of indi-
viduals ".
In an analogous way, the tendency which we are now
examining is a variable factor in our definition of cultural
structure, the meaning of the word "logical", the factor
which determines and systematises the building together of
structural premises.
From the close analogy between the two problems we may
guess that the variable factor in cultural structure is some
sort of standardisation of the individuals in the community.
We defined social structure in terms of ideas and assumptions
and "logic", and since these are, in some sense, a product
of cognitive process, we may surmise that the characteristics
of latmul culture which we are now studying are due to
a standardisation of the cogjiitive aspects of the personality of
the individuals. Such a standardisation and its expression in
cultural behaviour I shall refer to as the eidos^ of a culture.
^ The sense in which I use the word eidos is, of course, distinct from
that in which it was used in Greek philosophy, but since the philosophical
term has not been adopted in this form into the English language, it seems
legitimate to use the word, eidos, in the present sense.
This exposition of eidos and the definition of social structure are,
The Eidos of latmul Culture 221
We may now return to the latmul culture and examine its
eidos in some detail. Let us consider first the phenomenon
which I have variously described as hypertrophy, structural
complexity, or multiplicity of premises, in order to see
whether this can be re-phrased in terms of the standardisation
of cognitive processes of individuals. In the light of the
definition of social structure, this question becomes exces-
sively simple. Social structure is built up of " ideas or assump-
tions", and the culture is characterised by the multiplicity
of elements in its structure ; that is to say, it contains a very
large number of "ideas or assumptions", products of cogni-
tive process. To re-phrase this in terms of the standardisation
of individuals, we have only to say that they are so modified
by their culture that their output of cognitive products is
increased. In fact, that they are stimulated by the culture
to a degree of intellectual activity unusual among primitive
peoples.
Here I am not referring to any increase in intellectual
endowment, which is probably controlled to a great extent by
hereditary factors. But it is worth mentioning that among
the latmul definite efforts are made to increase the memory
endowment of individuals, by means of magical techniques.
Soon after birth, a male child is made to inhale smoke from
a fire which has been bespelled, in order that the boy shall
grow up to be erudite in the totemic names of his clan ; and
later in life a man may be treated with spells which are
believed to act on his heart (the seat of memory) giving him
facility in the memorising of name-cycles and spells. In a
culture in which such techniques have been evolved it is at
least likely that there is a factor of selection which favours
those of high cognitive capacity. In the present instance,
however, I am referring, not to an increase in endowment,
but rather to the way in which the cognitive machinery of
the individuals is stimulated to activity, instead of being
allowed to remain idle.
With this caveat — that we are discussing not endowment
I think, clumsy, but a more exact formulation of the matter is impossible
until an adequate enquiry has been conducted into the eidoses and ethoses
■ of various cultures.
222 The Eidos of latmul Culture
but stimulation — we may expect to find that cultures differ
enormously in the extent to which they promote intellectual
activity : though I know of no field work in which any atten-
tion has been paid to this phenomenon. Any mathematical
evaluation of the habitual activity of the intelligence of indi-
viduals is, of course, out of the question. But there are many
facts which indicate that a high degree of such activity is
common among the latmul and is promoted by the culture.
The present state of our knowledge of cognitive aspects of
mental process is so unsatisfactory that it is not possible to
describe the latmul material as systematically as we might
desire. We may, however, very roughly classify these pro-
cesses into processes of recall and processes of thought, both
of which seem to have contributed to the maintenance and
development of complexity in the latmul culture.
Let us first consider the cultural stimulation of memory.^
We have already seen that vast and detailed erudition is a
quality which is cultivated among the latmul. This is most
dramatically shown in the debating about names and totems,
and I have stated that a learned man carries in his head
between ten and twenty thousand names. This figure was
arrived at by very rough estimation from the number of name
songs possessed by each clan, the number of names in each
song, and the general ability of such men to quote, in con-
siderable detail, from the name-cycles even of clans other
than their own. The figure must therefore be accepted with
caution, but it is certain that the erudition of these men is
enormous.
Further it would seem that rote memory plays a rather
small part in the achievement of these feats of memory. The
names which are remembered are almost all of them com-
pounds, each containing from four to six syllables, and they
refer to details of esoteric mythology, so that each name has
at least a leaven of meaning. The names are arranged in pairs,
and the names in any one pair generally resemble each other
much as the word Tweedledum resembles the word Tweedle-
^ I have been much influenced in my own thinking about these pro-
blems by Professor Bartlett's book Remembering, 1932, which I read after
my return from New Guinea.
The Eidos of latmul Culture 223
dee — with the notable difference that the altered syllable or
syllables generally have some meaning and are connected
together by some simple type of association, e.g. either by
contrast or by synonymy. A progressive alteration of meaning
may run through a series of pairs.
Thus the series of names contain tags of reference which
would make it possible for them to be memorised either by
processes of imagery, or by word association. I collected
a great quantity of these names and noticed again and again
that the order in which the pairs were given was subject to
slight but continual variation. There is a vaguely defined
standard order for the recitation of every series of names.
But I never heard any criticism of the order in which names
were recited. In general, an informant will alter the order
of his recitation slightly every time he repeats the series.
Occasionally even, the pairing of the names is altered, but
changes of this type are definitely regarded as mistakes.
Bartlett^ has pointed out that one of the most characteristic
qualities of rote remembering is the accuracy with which the
chronological sequence of events or words can be recalled.
So that from the continual alteration of the order in which
the ixames are given we may deduce that the mental process
used is not chiefly that of rote memory. Additional evidence
for this conclusion may be drawn from the behaviour of
informants when they are endeavouring to recall an imper-
fectly remembered series of names. I do not remember ever
to have heard an informant go back, like a European child,
to the beginning and repeat the series of names already
given, in the hope that the "impetus" of rote repetition
would produce a few more names. Usually my informants
would sit and think and from time to time produce a name
(or more often a pair), often with a query as to whether
that name has already been given — as was frequently the
case.
Again, when a latmul native is asked about some event
in the past, he can as a rule give an immediately relevant
answer to the question and does not require to describe a
whole series of chronologically related events in order to lead
^ Remembering, pp. 203 and 264-266.
224 The Eidos of latmul Culture
up to the event in question. The latmul indulge very little
in the sort of chronological rigmarole which, as Bartlett has
pointed out, is characteristic of those primitive peoples who
have specialised in rote remembering.
One detail of the culture is worth mentioning as likely to
promote the higher processes rather than rote memory. This
concerns the technique of debating. In a typical debate a
name or series of names is claimed as totemic property by
two conflicting clans. The right to the name can only be
demonstrated by knowledge of the esoteric mythology to
which the name refers. But if the myth is exposed and be-
comes publicly known, its value as a means of proving the
clan's right to the name will be destroyed. Therefore there
ensues a struggle between the two clans, each stating that
they themselves know the myth and each trying to find out
how much their opponents really know. In this context, the
myth is handled by the speakers not as a continuous narrative,
but as a series of small details. A speaker will hint at one
detail at a time — to prove his own knowledge of the myth —
or he will challenge the opposition to produce some one detail.
In this way there is, I think, induced a tendency to think of a
story, not as a chronological sequence of events, but as a set
of details with varying degrees of secrecy surrounding each —
an analytic attitude which is almost certainly directly opposed
to rote remembering.
But though we may with fair certainty say that rote
memory is not the principal process stimulated in latmul
erudition, it is not possible to say which of the higher pro-
cesses is chiefly involved. There are, however, several details
of the culture which point to visual and kinaesthetic imagery
as likely to be of great importance. In debate, objects are
continually off"ered for exhibition. For example, when the
totemic ownership of the Sepik River was in dispute, a shell
necklace was hung in the centre of the ceremonial house to
represent the river. In the debating, clan A claimed that the
elephant grass which forms a conspicuous and picturesque
fringe along the banks of the river was indubitably theirs;
and that therefore the river must belong to them. They
accordingly produced a beautiful spear decorated with leaves
The Eidos of latmul Culture 225
of the grass and pointed to it, saying " Our lambwiuishi ! ! "*
Clan B on the other hand claimed that the river was their
snake, Kindjin-kamboi, and their protagonist, MaH-kindjin
went off to get brightly coloured leaves to ornament a repre-
sentation of his snake which adorned one of the gongs in the
ceremonial house. Again in a debate about the Sun, a
number of the participants dressed themselves up to repre-
sent characters in a myth of origin of the Sun.
In the technique of debating the speaker uses bundles of
leaves, beating on a table with them to mark the points of
his speech. These leaves are continually used as visible or
tangible emblems of objects and names. A speaker will say,
"This leaf is So-and-so, I am not claiming that name", and
he will throw the leaf across to the opposition. Or he may
say, "This leaf is so-and-so's opinion", and he will throw it
onto the ground with contempt ; or he will sweep the ground
with the leaves, brushing away his opponents' rubbishy state-
ments. Similarly a small empty leaf packet is used as an
emblem of some secret, of which the speaker is challenging
the opposition to show a knowledge : he will hold it up asking
them scornfully if they know what is inside it.
The proneness to visual or kinaesthetic thought is shown
too in the continual tendency to diagrammatise social organisa-
tion. In almost every ceremony, the participants are arranged
in groups so that the total pattern is a diagram of the social
system. In the ceremonial house the clans and moieties are
normally allotted seats according to the totemic system of
groupings: but when initiation ceremonies are to be per-
formed this arrangement is discarded and in its place comes
another based upon the cross-cutting initiatory moieties and
grades.^
^ The totemic name of the grass.
* For other material of this kind, see Oceania, 1932, passim; the state-
ment on p. 256 that the village is longitudinally divided between the two
totemic moieties is, however, false. It was collected while I was on a
short visit to a village in which initiation was taking place. We were in
the initiatory ceremonial house, and it would appear that my informant
was so influenced by the initiatory patterning inside the ceremonial house
that he spoke as if that patterning extended to the whole village. As a
matter of fact, the subdivision of the village does on the whole follow
the moiety divisions, but is transverse and not longitudinal. The village
of Mindimbit in which I chiefly worked on the first expedition was
irregularly laid out owing to the swampiness of the ground.
226 The Eidos of latmul Culture
Lastly we may cite the naven ceremonies as a further
example of this proneness to visual and kinaesthetic thought.
We have seen how the abstract geometrical properties of the
kinship system are here symbolised in costume and gesture ;
and we may note this in passing as a contribution of eidology
to our understanding of the ceremonies.
But the connection between the expression of eidos in the
contexts which I have described, and the culture as a whole,
is still not perfectly clear. I have illustrated the eidos chiefly
from the totemic debating, and have shown that very great
activity of memory is demanded and promoted in certain
individuals by the sport of debating. Further, I have given
facts which indicate that rote memory plays only a small part
in this activity, while visual and kinaesthetic imagery appears
to be important. In the special business of memorising names
I showed that it is possible to suppose that word association
plays a part. But these facts might well be isolated in their
effects. On the one hand, the active cultivation of memory
might be confined to a few selected specialists and, on the
other hand, it might occur only in the special contexts in
which names are important. Until these two possibilities
have been examined, we cannot step from the facts given
to the statement that the active development of memory has
affected the culture as a whole and the naven ceremonies in
particular.
We will first consider how far this activation can be sup-
posed to have affected the whole community, and how far
it is confined to a small minority of specialists. On the whole,
the remarkable keenness in memorising names is to be found
in the majority of the men.^ When I was collecting the names
I got my material as far as possible from specialists, but it
was noticeable that, even when I was talking about other
matters with informants who would never have dared to pose
as erudite in public debate, they would continually bring the
talk round to matters connected with the totemic system and
would attempt to give me lists of names. This was true, for
^ About the women I have no data, but from the contrast in ethos
between the sexes I should expect to find considerable differences in
their eidos.
The Eidos of latmul Culture zz'j
example, of the informant (Plate XXII) whom I have described
above (p. i6i) as conspicuously enthusiastic and inaccurate.
He insisted upon discussing esoterica and giving lists of
names belonging to his clan, full of blunders and contradic-
tions. In the younger men, however, this passion for showing
off even weakly developed erudition is almost completely
checked by the feeling that erudition is only appropriate in
senior men. I had three very intelligent youths who con-
sistently avoided giving me names, and who referred me to
their seniors when I pressed them. But I was told by other
people in their absence that two of these youths were already
well on the way towards erudition, and would be great
debaters when they were older. Thus the reticence of the
younger men on the subject of names does not imply that
they are not, like their seniors, keen on this form of mental
virtuosity. 1
But a more complete answer to the question of how the
stimulation of a small number of specialists can react on the
culture as a whole is provided by the fact that these specialists
constantly set themselves up as unofficial masters of cere-
monies, criticising and instructing the men who are carrying
out the intricacies of the culture. Their voice is heard not
only in the debates which concern totemic names, but also
in those on every subject from initiation to land tenure. Thus
the culture is to a great extent in the custody of men trained
in erudition and dialectic and is continually set forth by
them for the instruction of the majority. From this we may
be fairly certain that the individuals most affected by the
stimulation of memory actually contribute very much more
than their fellows to the elaboration and maintenance of the
culture.
Lastly, there is the question whether this business of
totemic names constitutes a separate context, a special interest,
^ The reticence of the younger men on the subject of names may be
compared with their comparative quietness in the ceremonial house,
a matter which I mentioned in the discussion of the men's ethos.
I said there that in the junior ceremonial house the boys ape the violence
of their seniors, but I do not know of any debating in the junior ceremonial
house in which the erudition of the older men is copied. There are,
however, a number of games in which children test each other's know-
ledge, e.g. of species of plants in the bush, etc.
228 The Eidos of latmul Culture
the effects of which might be isolated from the culture as a
whole; or whether it is a widely ramifying system which
might be expected to have effects in all parts of the culture.
Here the indications are very strongly in favour of the latter
view. The naming system is indeed a theoretical image of the
whole culture and in it every formulated aspect of the culture
is reflected. Conversely, we may say that the system has its
branches in every aspect of the culture and gives its support
to every cultural activity. Every spell, every song — even the
little songs which boys make up for their sweethearts — con-
tains lists of names. The utterances of the shamans are
couched in terms of names. The shamanic spirits which
possess the shamans are themselves important nodal points
in the naming system. Marriages are often arranged in
order to gain names. Reincarnation and succession are based
upon the naming system. Land tenure is based on clan
membership and clan membership is vouched for by names.
The man who buys names acquires at the same time member-
ship in the clan to which the names belonged, and a right to
cultivate the land of that clan. Every product of the river
and gardens has its place in the system. The land, the river,
the sky and the islands of floating grass are all named in
the system. Every utensil of the house, the house itself and
the ceremonial house are included. Every man, woman and
child is included, and the various aspects of social personality
are differentiated in the system (cf. infra).
Indeed the only province of the culture which is almost
independent of the naming system is that of initiation;^ and
^ Here there is a difference between the Eastern latmul (Mindimbit,
etc.) and the Central latmul (Kankanamun, etc.). Among the latter,
both the initiatory moieties and the totemic moieties are called "Sun"
and "Mother", in spite of the fact that several clans, which in totemism
belong to one moiety and speak on that side in debates about names,
have gone across to the other moiety for initiatory purposes. But in
Mindimbit, the initiatory dual division is regarded as entirely distinct
from the totemic and the initiatory moieties are not named "Sun" and
"Mother". They are called Kishit and Miwot. Moreover in Mindimbit
the secret sHt gongs are not identified with shamanic spirits. In Kankana-
mun, both gongs and spirits are called zcagan; but in Mindimbit while
the gongs are still called wagan, the spirits are called lemwail. Thus it
would seem that the connection between totemism and initiation is
weaker in Mindimbit than in Kankanamun.
The Eidos of latmul Culture 229
even here we find that all the mysterious sound-producing
mechanisms have totemic names, the secret slit gongs are
vaguely equated with shamanic spirits, and the initiatory
moieties have polysyllabic names on the usual plan, though
no place has been allotted to these in the distribution of
names among the clans. Lastly, the novices receive at the
end of initiation special names from their mothers' brothers.
From this extraordinary ramification of the system we may,
I think, be fairly certain that the more learned men approach
every cultural activity with the cognitive habits acquired in
debate ; that not only is their memory activated by the culture
in the special context of debating, but that this activation
has its effects on the culture as a whole, promoting and main-
taining the extreme complexity which we have seen to be
characteristic.
Hitherto, in describing latmul eidos, we have dealt with
its quantitative aspects and with questions as to what types of
thought mechanisms are most cultivated. It now remains to
consider in more detail the patterning of the standardised
thought and the sorts of logic which are characteristic of it.
Unfortunately I have very little material which would demon-
strate the methods of thought of individual natives, and must
therefore depend almost entirely upon the details of the
culture, deducing therefrom the patterns of thought of the
individuals. Ideally it should be possible to trace the same
processes in the utterances of informants and in individual
behaviour in experimental conditions as well as in the norms
of the culture.
In the first place, we must note that a great deal of latmul
thought is "intellectual" — and here I am using the term in
that slang sense in which it is used to imply that people are
"intellectual" rather than intelligent.
The problems which most exercise the latmul mind appear
to us fundamentally unreal. There is, for example, a standing
argument between the Sun moiety and the Mother moiety
as to the nature of Night. While the Sun people claim Day
as their totemic property, the Mother people claim Night
and have developed an elaborate esoteric rigmarole about
mountains meeting in the sky, and ducks, and the Milky Way
230 The Eidos of latmul Culture
to explain its existence. The Sun people are contemptuous
of this and Night has become a bone of contention. The
Mother people maintain that Night is a positive phenomenon
due to the overlapping mountains, etc., while the Sun people
maintain that Night is a mere nullity, a negation of Day,
due to the absence of their totem, the Sun.
Again, within the Sun moiety itself there is matter for
dispute about the Sun. One of his totemic names is Twat-
mali,i but there are two clans in this moiety who lay claim
to this name. Each clan has its own string of names linked
with this. Thus clan A claims that the series runs : Twat-mali,
Awai-mali ; Ka-ruat-mali, Kisa-ruat-mali ; etc. (nine pairs of
names), while clan B claims that the series runs : Twat-mali,
Awai-mali ; Ndo-mbwangga-ndo, Kambwak-mbwangga-ndo ;
etc. (eight pairs of names). At some time in the past a settle-
ment of this argument has apparently been reached in a com-
promise: that there are two Twat-malis, one of whom is
the sun who shines nowadays, while the other is the old sun,
who lies as a decaying rock somewhere in the plains north
of the Sepik River. But the settlement is only partial, because
it has never been agreed which of the two Twat-malis is
which, and nowadays each clan taunts the other by saying
that their own Twat-mali is in the sky, while that of the
opposition lies rotting in the plains.
Another subject which is matter for this characteristic
intellectual enquiry is the nature of ripples and waves on the
surface of water. It is said secretly that men, pigs, trees,
grass — all the objects in the world — are only patterns of
waves. Indeed there seems to be some agreement about this,
although it perhaps conflicts with the theory of reincarnation,
according to which the ghost of the dead is blown as mist by
the East Wind up the river and into the womb of the de-
ceased's son's wife. Be that as it may — there is still the
question of how ripples and waves are caused. The clan
which claims the East Wind as a totem is clear enough about
this : the Wind with her mosquito fan causes the waves. But
^ Other clans of the Sun moiety have other names for the Sun —
langgun-mah, Kala-ndimi, etc. The dispute here discussed is concerned
merely with Twat-mali.
The Eidos of latmul Culture 23 1
other clans have personified the waves and say that they are
a person (Kontum-mali) independent of the wind. Other
clans, again, have other theories. On one occasion I took
some latmul natives down to the coast and found one of
them sitting by himself gazing with rapt attention at the sea.
It was a windless day, but a slow swell was breaking on the
beach. Among the totemic ancestors of his clan he counted
a personified slit gong who had floated down the river to
the sea and who was believed to cause the waves. He was
gazing at the waves which were heaving and breaking when no
wind was blowing, demonstrating the truth of his clan myth.
On another occasion I invited one of my informants to
witness the development of photographic plates. I first de-
sensitised the plates and then developed them in an open
dish in moderate light, so that my informant was able to see
the gradual appearance of the images. He was much inter-
ested, and some days later made me promise never to show
this process to members of other clans. Kontum-mali was
one of his ancestors, and he saw in the process of photo-
graphic development the actual embodiment of ripples into
images, and regarded this as a demonstration of the truth of
the clan's secret.
This intellectual attitude towards the great natural phe-
nomena crops up continually in conversations between the
anthropologist and his informants, the latter striving to pump
the anthropologist about the nature of the universe. I learned
very soon that the correct attitude to adopt in such conversa-
tions was one of extreme discretion. I parted with informa-
tion only after insisting upon secrecy and then shared the
secret as a bond between my informant and myself. With
such preliminaries, what I said was treated seriously, but
without them it was generally assumed to be exoteric lies.
One man came quietly, boasting to me that he knew the
European secrets about day and night ; that a white man had
told him that by day the Sun travelled over the earth and
then during the night he returned to the East, travelling back
over the sky- world, so that the people in the sky have day
while we on earth are having night and vice versa — a pretty
re-phrasing of the Antipodes in latmul terms.
232 The Eidos of latmul Culture
A lunar eclipse occurred while I was in Kankanamun and
I discussed this with my informants. I was rather surprised
to find them but little interested in the phenomenon. They
ascribed it to magic performed by the Tshuosh people. One
informant, lowimet, seemed rather doubtful about this theory,
and asked me what we Europeans believed. I hedged for a
while, and then explained the secret. The moon during the
eclipse had turned red, and my informant had told me some
days previously that the sun was a cannibal. I ascribed the
redness of the moon to blood in the sun's excrement, and
said that this material was between the moon and the earth
obscuring the moon's brightness. This secret was quite a
useful bond of understanding between my informant and me,
and several times later he referred to it as "that matter we
both know about". It might be interesting to collect in the
future lowimet's re-phrasing of what I told him.
More specifically, latmul thought is characterised not only
by its intellectuality, but also by a tendency to insist that
what is symbolically, sociologically, or emotionally true, is
also cognitively true. Apparently the sort of paradox which
can be constructed in this way is very attractive to the latmul
mind, and the same mental twist is, of course, recognisable
in dialecticians and theologians in all parts of the world.
Among the latmul the dialecticians and theologians are not
a class apart but are, as we have seen, the chief contributors
to the culture. Thus it comes about that many of the com-
plications of the culture can be described as tours-de-force
played upon this type of paradox, devices which stress the
contradiction between emotional and cognitive reality or be-
tween diff"erent aspects of emotional truth.
As examples of this, we have the oft-repeated idea of the
discrimination between and yet the identity of different
aspects of social personality. We have already noted this
cultural phenomenon in the naming of human beings; we
have seen how a man's various names constitute a diagram
of his various allegiances to his paternal clan, his maternal
clan, and his classificatory zt'«ws, and how another name is
connected with his status as an initiate. The various souls of
a man with their different fates after death — his patrilineal
The Eidos of lattnul Culture 233
aspect which is reincarnated in his son's son, his matrilineal
aspect which dwells on in the land of the dead under the
name given him by his wau, and that aspect of his personality
which is represented by his secret name, which becomes a
potsherd spirit, a guardian of his clan — correspond in the
same way with the various facets of his personality.
The discrimination of facets of personality is carried even
farther in the case of wagan, the most important type of
spiritual being. Kava-mbuangga, the wagan who set his foot
upon the mud and thereby created dry land, is a representa-
tive both of the living and of the dead, and there are myths
of his visit to the land of the dead. A figure of him which
I was shown in Mindimbit was painted in two colours,
the right-hand side of the figure in ochre to represent
living flesh, and the left-hand side in black to represent
stone, the kava (paralysis, or " pins-and-needles ") which
creeps over the body in death. Thus in the figure the two
sides of Kava-mbuangga's personality are diagrammatically
shown.
In their naming, too, the wagan are differentiated, not only
qua members of their maternal and paternal clans and as
initiates, but also they have separate strings of names according
as they function as {a) shamanic spirits ; {b) avenging spirits,
invoked in sorcery; {c) secret slit gongs in initiatory cere-
monies ; {d) mhwatnggowi (ceremonial dolls which are vaguely
believed to be associated with fertility) ; {e) mwai (long-nosed
masks in which the young men dance. These dances are
junior analogues of the wagan slit-gong ceremonies performed
by the senior men).
These different names of the wagan are many of them
esoteric, and especially to be concealed is the fact of funda-
mental identity, which exists in spite of the differentiation
between the various personifications. Only the more erudite
men know that mwai and mhwatnggowi are really wagan ; and
when they told me of this they spoke of it as of a mystery
which was beyond their comprehension, a paradox which had
to be accepted and at which they marvelled with a certain
serious humility and acceptance of its incomprehensibility.
At the same time, they insisted upon the identity with an
234 ^^^ Eidos of latmul Culture
over-emphasis in favour of that behef which, of the two,
was the more difficuh to assimilate.
Another example of insistence upon a sociological truth
because it looks like cognitive nonsense may be seen in the
constantly repeated statements that the Borassus palm, Tep-
meaman,^ is a fish as well as a palm. Tepmeaman is the kaishi
(counterpart or partner) of nau, the sago palm. But, in
latmul economics, the counterpart of sago is fish, since the
river people catch fish which they exchange for sago manu-
factured in the bush villages. Thus we can detect some justifi-
cation for the statement that the Borassus palm is a fish.
The tendency to emphasise the more cognitively obscure
of tAvo truths is recognisable again in the kinship system.
In my preliminary account of the culture I stated that while
the "morphology of the social system "^ is patrilineal, the
"sentiment" of the people is preponderantly matrilineal.
I am inclined now to see in this almost sentimental stressing
of the importance of the tie with the mother another instance
of over-compensation in favour of the less evident truth.
My informants, when we were discussing the mother and
mother's brother, had certainly a trace of that same puzzled
insistence which was present when they told me of the dif-
ferent personalities of wagan. It would seem then that the
patrilineal relationship is evident enough from clan organisa-
tion to need no stressing. But its clear existence casts a slight
obscurity upon the matrilineal relationship which, though no
less socially and emotionally real, is thereby rendered less
cognitively evident. Therefore the matrilineal relationship
is the more emphasised.
* The names of this palm are Tepmeaman, Kambuguli, etc. (cf. p. 44,
where the complete list is given). In a previous publication {Oceania,
1932) I have stated that Kambuguli is a different species of palm
from Tepmeaman. On my second expedition I found that borassus is
a dioecious palm and that Kambuguli is the male plant as distinct from
Tepmeaman, the female. Actually the natives regard Tepmeaman as the
male, the word tshik being used homonymously for "fruit" and "penis".
" Oceania, 1932, p. 289. By "the morphology of the system" I meant
those cultural premises which are articulately formulated by the natives,
e.g. groupings such as clans, moieties, initiatory grades, etc., which are
named and discriminated. A man's ties with his father are articulately
stated, while those with his mother are chiefly expressed in symbolic
behaviour.
The Eidos of latmul Culture 235
Another example of the same sort of thinking occurs in
the identification of the laua with the ancestors of the maternal
clan (cf. p. 43). Here the link upon which the equation is
based would seem to be a purely emotional one. In the two
relationships, that between a clan and its lauas, and that
between a clan and its ancestors, the only common factor is
the pride which is associated with the achievements of both
lauas and ancestors.
In the naven ceremonies we can see the same sort of twisted
thinking acted out in ceremonial. In a social and economic
and emotional sense, the wau is a mother and wife of his laua.
But in a strictly cognitive sense he is not anything of the sort.
In the carrying out of the ceremonial, it is the emotional
truth which is stressed, which, of the two, is the more diffi-
cult of cognitive assimilation.
Besides this sense of the contrast between emotional and
cognitive truth, latmul thought has certain other patterns
or motifs in which it is trained by the culture and which
pervade the various institutions. At this stage in the book
it will hardly surprise the reader to be told that these patterns
are to a great extent mutually contradictory, so that the
culture as a whole appears as a complex fabric in which the
various conflicting eidological motifs are twisted and woven
together. Unravelling and isolating these motifs, we can
recognise and describe some of the more important :
{a) A sense of pluralism: of the multiplicity and differ-
entiation of the objects, people, and spiritual beings in the
world.
(6) A sense of monism ; that everything is fundamentally
one or at least is derived from one origin.
{c) A sense of direct dualism : that everything has a sibling.
{d) A sense of diagonal dualism — that everything has a
symmetrical counterpart.
{e) Patterns of thought which govern the seriation of indi-
viduals and groups; these patterns being apparently based
upon [c] and {d).
The senses of multiplicity and of monism need only very
brief treatment, since neither of them, so far as I know, has
had any repercussions on the naven ceremonies. On the one
236 The Eidos of latmul Culture
hand, we have the type of material which I have already
mentioned, the distribution of thousands of personal names
to the things and people of the world and to the different
facets of their personalities ; and on the other hand, we have
the insistence that everything is really one. On the whole, it
would seem that the belief in multiplicity is lay and exoteric,
while the details of the basis of monism are an esoteric
mystery for the erudite.
This does not mean that the general concept of monism
is a secret. When two clans are striving over the ancestral
ownership of a name, a man may declaim in open debate:
" One father, one mother, one root — that is the sort of people
that we (human beings) are", insisting, by this conventional
reference to one of the pairs of first parents of the human race,
upon the indivisibility of the disputed name.
But the names of these first parents are secret, as also are
all the details of muddled mythology whereby monism unites
the whole world in historical mysticism.
The same considerations apply to wagan. There are many
wagan and many of them have multiple personalities, and
yet all wagan are one and were descended from Kava-
mbwangga who multiplied himself by means of boluses of
chewed betel upon which he trod and which thereby became
the other zcagan; but which are all really Kava-mbwangga.
Another instance of this mystical monism is to be seen in the
theory that all things in the world are only the patterns of
waves.
But over against the sense of the unity of everything, we
may set the confusion which has perhaps resulted from the
rivalry between clans and the emphasis upon pride. Every-
body believes and insists on fundamental monism, but each
group of clans has its own mythological theory according to
which its own ancestors are given the key positions in the
unitary origin of the world. Thus it has come about that there
is not one monistic theory but a whole series of conflicting
theories, each of which emphasises the fundamental unity
of the world.
There are at least two (and probably more) pairs of first
parents included in the polysyllabic totemic scheme; and
The Eidos of latmul Culture 237
besides these there is a third pair who have short names and
are attached to no clan^ — and so the cuhure swings between
monism and pluraHsm.
An interesting expression of the fundamental pluraHsm of
the world may be seen in the native theory of separate " roads ".
This is a matter upon which the natives themselves are vague
and opinion varies from one informant to another. I was told
that human beings, wagan, kurgwa (witches), and windjitnbu
(wood spirits), have all of them separate " roads ". But some
informants were inclined to think that there were only two
"roads", that of human beings and that of spirits; others
again discriminated three roads, that of wagan and kurgwa^
that of wtndjimbu, and that of human beings. I was told in
pidgin English that wagan were "behind true", i.e. that
though invisible they were yet present in some mysterious
way which we might express by a reference to the "fourth
dimension" or to another "plane of existence". The word,
iamha (road), as applied to these spiritual beings seemed,
although the roads were described as means of instantaneous
transport, to be also an equivalent of "planes of existence".
While the monism and pluralism in latmul thought are
comparatively easy to understand, the two forms of dualism
are somewhat more obscure. The matter is, however, of some
importance, and I believe that the discrimination of direct
and diagonal dualism may prove useful in the description of
cultures other than the latmul.^
^ It is interesting that my informant, Kainggenwan of Mindimbit, who
gave me the names of these two non-totemic first parents, Mogavia (the
man) and Leren (the woman), regarded these names as secrets of great
importance ; although as they have no clan status and no magical efficacy
we might expect the names to have no value.
^ This exposition of direct and diagonal dualism was written before
I realised that these concepts are only eidological analogues of comple-
mentary and symmetrical ethos. The phrasings which are here used are
in some respects clumsy, and some simplification might have been intro-
duced by substituting the term complementary for "direct" and sym-
metrical for "diagonal". It seemed worth while, however, to leave the
original statement of the matter almost unchanged so that the reader
might see how schismogenic phenomena were reflected in my account
of latmul eidos before I had developed the concept of schismogenesis.
The equivalence between the two types of dualism and the two types of
schismogenesis is worked out more fully at the end of the book, since it
was only in the writing of the Epilogue that this identity became clear.
238 The Eidos of latmul Culture
By dualism I mean a tendency to see things, persons, or
social groups as related together in pairs; and according to
the type of relationship which is seen between the elements
in each pair, I shall speak of the dualism as being either direct
or diagonal. In the case of direct dualism the relationship
is seen as analogous to that which obtains between a pair of
siblings of the same sex ; while in diagonal dualism the rela-
tionship is seen as analogous to that between a pair of men
who have married each other's sisters.
These considerations were suggested to me by a paper read
by Dr Leonard Adam,^ who mentioned a Nepalese institution
which he described as "artificial brotherhood". The exis-
tence of two forms of dualist thinking became evident from
considering the contrast between this relationship and the
corresponding "artificial" relationships institutionalised in
latmul culture.
In almost all cultures there are to be found these institu-
tionalised partnerships, and in the simpler societies it is usual
to find that these partnerships, contracted either outside or
across the bonds of kinship, are yet patterned upon the
familiar kinship ties. Thus in Nepal the behaviour of the
partners is apparently patterned upon that normal between
brothers in Nepalese culture. Among the latmul, on the
other hand, there is no "artificial brotherhood", but in its
place we find a series of types of "artificial" relationships
patterned upon affinal ties and stressing the symmetrical
nature of these ties.
The contrast is very striking and led naturally to the
problem of what cultural factors could be expressed by
institutionalising the one type of "artificial" relationship
rather than the other. The theory which I am now putting
forward is an attempt to answer this question from an eido-
logical point of view.
The theory is simply that there are two contrasting types
of dualist thinking. The first type, which is easy for Euro-
^ Man, vol. xxv, 1935, p. 12 and Zeitschr. fur Vergl. Rechtswissenschaft,
Bd. XLix. For instances of "artificial relationships" probably based upon
diagonal dualisnm in African communities, cf. Hocart, " Blood Brother-
hood", Man, 1935, p. 127.
The Eidos of I attnul Culture 239
peans to follow, would classify together the adjacent corners
of a rhombus (to employ a geometrical analogy). This type of
thought, which I shall refer to as, direct dualism, is that which
leads to the formation of artificial relationships based upon
brotherhood and to concepts such as that of the latmul that
everything in the world can be grouped in pairs, such that
in each pair one component is an elder sibling, while the
other is a younger sibling of the same sex.
The second type of thought is much more difficult for
Europeans because it is less developed in our eidos. ^ It would
classify together the diagonally opposite corners of a rhombus,
stressing their fundamental equality and oppositeness. This
diagonal way of thinking leads in latmul culture to the forma-
tion of artificial affinal relationships and to the idea that
everything in the world has its equal and opposite counter-
part. It is extended farther to the great dualist constructs
underlying the two moieties of Sun and Mother with their
opposed totems Sky and Earth, Day and Night, and to the
cross-cutting dual divisions of the initiatory system in which
one half of one moiety initiates the diagonally opposite half
of the opposite moiety (see Fig. 4, p. 245).
It is possible that these two patterns of thought are both
of them represented in the eidos of all cultures, but I believe
that there is a great deal of variation between cultures in the
degree to which one or the other type of dualism is stressed.
Among the latmul, both types are strongly developed. It is
hard to estimate their relative importance because the diagonal
way of thinking appears more strange and striking to the
European observer. My impression is that greater emphasis
is given to the diagonal type, and further that this emphasis
is stronger among the Eastern latmul (Mindimbit, Tam-
bunum, etc.) than among the Central latmul (Palimbai,
Malingai, etc.). In Mindimbit I collected two sorts of lists
of names of shamanic spirits arranged in pairs. In one list
^ It may reasonably be asked why, since both kinds of schismogenesis
are present in European society, it should be more difficult for us to think
in terms of diagonal (i.e. symmetrical) dualism. The answer is that while
we habitually think of complementary relationships in dual terms, we
do not think of rivalry and competition as necessarily dual. Our society,
though it is based upon competition and rivalry, lacks bilateral symmetry.
240 The Eidos of latmul Culture
the pairs were composed of elder brother and younger brother
names, while in the other list they were pairs of kaishi (oppo-
site counterparts). In Palimbai I tried to collect the same two
sorts of lists and was only given lists arranged in sibling pairs.
When I asked for the names paired as kaishi and said I had
been given such lists in Mindimbit, my informant said, "Yes,
the Easterners are always talking about kaishi; with them,
everything has a kaishi; but we are not like that." This eido-
logical difference between Palimbai and Mindimbit is in part
due no doubt to historical accident, and it is interesting that
the Easterners are geographically nearer to the area in which
extremely complicated symmetrical kinship systems have
been collected among the Banaro^ and Mundugumor.^
But in spite of this difference in degree between Palimbai
and Mindimbit, both types of dualist thought are well
developed throughout the latmul area; and both are recog-
nisable in the shaping of naven. On the one hand we have
the emphasis upon the various direct identifications of
siblings, of father and son, and of husband and wife, and on
the other hand, as examples of the diagonal way of thinking,
we have the whole patterning of the brother-in-law relation-
ship and the beautiful reversed symmetry in naven on the
two sides of the marriage tie, whereby the father's sister
dresses up as a man and identifies with the father, while the
mother's brother dresses up as a woman and identifies with
the mother.
There are, of course, other types of dualism besides the
two which have been cultivated by the latmul. In our own
culture, we have the dualism between Mind and Matter and
others based on contrast between different levels of the per-
sonality. In these types of dualism the latmul have, so far
as I know, not indulged ; neither have they emphasised at all
strongly any dualism based upon contrasting ethological
patterns. This is perhaps surprising in a culture in which
each sex has its own ethos. Even the common idea of " male "
and "female" principles in nature is only recognisable as a
very minor motif in the totemic dual division. The Sun is
^ Thumwald, Mem. Amer. Anth. Ass. vol. in, 1916.
^ Margaret Mead, Sex and Temperament.
The Eidos of lattnul Culture 241
personified as masculine and the Moon, which belongs to the
Mother moiety, is a woman. The Mother moiety has the
vulva (not, so far as I know, personified but feminine in
gender) as its most important emblem. But this type of
contrast is not carried far, and the earth and sky are both
personified as masculine. In general, latmul thought has
ignored the sort of philosophy which finds ethological dif-
ferentiations in nature. There has never been a Blake among
them ; and their myths of origin of the world emphasise the
separation of sky and earth rather than the coming together
of great opposites to produce the world. Indeed there is so
little tendency to link ethological contrasts on to diagonal
dualism that with some hesitation I have classified the
identification of man and wife among those based upon direct
dualism instead of putting it in the same class with the
identification of brothers-in-law. In marriage, the contrast
in sex ethos makes impossible the element of symmetrical com-
petition which characterises co-operation between brothers-
in-law.^
Lastly, before leaving the questions of direct and diagonal
thought, we may note that primitive peoples, as well as
anthropologists, tend to confuse the two methods of thinking.
In a typical classificatory system, the distribution of kinship
terms is based upon the identity between siblings of the same
sex. Thus the use of identical kinship terms for two different
persons becomes typically a device for stressing their direct
social identity, but the same device may also be used to stress
identity based upon diagonal thinking. Thus among the Sulka
^ This paragraph was written before I had equated direct dualism with
complementary patterns, and I have left the passage unchanged. I had
found that those with whom I discussed the types of dualism tended to
confuse the geometrical oppositeness of diagonal dualism with the sort
of oppositeness which occurs in the contrast between Day and Night.
My concepts were at the time rather vague but I was sure that this was
a misconception, and this passage is therefore devoted to showing that
oppositeness of nature is not implied in diagonal dualism. It did not
occur to me to put the matter as I now should in positive terms, stating
that complementary nature is implied in direct dualism.
The lack of emphasis in the totemic system upon " male " and " female "
principles is probably correlated with the fact that this system is a re-
flection of the subdivision of the community into moieties and clans rather
than of the differentiation of the sexes.
242 The Eidos of latmul Culture
of New Britain, whom I studied for some months in 1929,
the kinship term used for own mother's brother is extended
to own mother's brother's counterpart {krus) in the opposite
moiety, a man whom the speaker would address as "father"
were it not for his diagonal identification with the mother's
brother. In the latmul system the same phenomenon is
recognisable in the observance by father's tambinyen of the
taboo on eating food collected by the son, a taboo which
chiefly concerns the father.
Again, a confusion of direct and diagonal dualism occurs
in the system of totemic moieties and clans. This system is
thought of as a series of diminishing dichotomies, but it is
not perfectly clear whether these dichotomies are direct or
diagonal. I have already indicated that the relationship be-
tween the moieties is, on the whole, diagonal. But pairs of
related clans are thought of as descended from pairs of elder
and younger brothers and thus the relationship between them
is conceived of as direct ; and this concept has been extended
to the moiety, so that it is said by the Sun people that their
moiety is "elder brother" of the Mother moiety.^
Equally, instead of stating that the direct dualism which
occurs between pairs of clans has been extended to the relation-
ship between the moieties, we may say that the diagonal
dualism between moieties has influenced the relationship
between the clans. The lists of totemic ancestors of the
various clans show that a great deal of imitation has occurred.
Every clan has its personified pig, eagle, fire, crocodile, cere-
monial house, shamanic spirit, etc. ; and it is likely that the
sense of symmetry connected with diagonal dualism has
guided the various clans in their copying of each other (i.e.
^ I think I was also told by members of the Mother moiety that their
group was "elder brother" of the Sun moiety but I have no record of
this in my notes. I probably took but little notice of the statement when
it was made, ignoring it as a boast. But the matter is interesting, since if
difference in age, the mark of complementary relationship, is become a
matter for symmetrical rivalry, this might throw some light upon the
alternating system of grouping of initiatory grades into moieties with
symmetrical rivalry between them. Cf. also the quarrel between Kwo-
shimba and Kili-mali (p. 105) who were related symmetrically through
the marriage of their children. Kwoshimba finally boasts that he is
Kili-mali's "elder brother".
The Eidos of latmul Culture 243
that the relationship between clans though nominally comple-
mentary and phrased in terms of "elder" and "younger"
is to some extent patterned upon symmetrical rivalry).
There is one peculiarity of the latmul handling of direct
dualism which needs to be specially emphasised (and from
this, more than from any other detail I shall in the Epilogue
deduce an equivalence between "direct" dualism and com-
plementary patterns of relationship). Every thing and every
person has a sibling and the polysyllabic names are so ar-
ranged in pairs that in each pair one name is the elder sibling
of the other. Throughout the whole field in which direct
dualist thought is recognisable, it is accompanied by the con-
cept that one of the units is senior to the other. There is no
such concept in the case of persons identified by diagonal
dualism and it would seem that such persons are nominally
equal in status and always of the same sex ; while those who
are directly identified can never be equal but must differ
either in seniority or in sex.
In the case of siblings of opposite sex, there is no emphasis
on seniority, the diff"erence in sex being apparently analogous
to difference in age. A sister, regardless of age, always
addresses her brother as nyamun, the term used by a man for
his elder brother only. But between siblings of the same sex,
the terms nyamun (elder sibling of same sex) and tshuamho
(younger sibling of same sex) are always employed. In the
naming system, there are pairs of masculine names and in
many cases corresponding pairs of feminine names, thus:
Mwaim-nanggura-ndimi Mwaim-nanggura-ndimi-ndjowa
(elder brother) (elder sister)
Temwa-nanggura-ndimi Temwa-nanggura-ndimi-ndjowa
(younger brother) (younger sister)
etc. (nine pairs of names), etc. (seven pairs of names).
Always the seniority is stated in the same sex pairs and
omitted between the sexes.
In other cultures in which direct dualist thought has been
at work, we may find it expressed in mythological references
to twins. But this type of myth is, so far as I know, absent
244 '^he Eidos of latmul Culture
from latmul culture. It is likely that the extreme horror and
intolerance of twins in some cultures are a further develop-
ment comparable with the latmul stressing of seniority.
Among the latmul, twins are tolerated and no great interest
is taken in the phenomenon of twinning. There are, however,
a few myths which embroider upon the idea of namesakes
(oiselt). One man meets another and on asking his name finds
it to be the same as his own. He then asks the father's name
and finds (as the naming system theoretically demands) that
it is the same as that of his own father. In mythology name-
sakes immediately strike up a friendship. But in real life
they seem to pay but little attention to each other.
Leaving now the instances of paired identification or oppo-
sition and turning to longer series, a new pattern of thought
is recognisable. In latmul culture, with its lack of chieftain-
ship or hierarchy, there are but three contexts in which such
seriation occurs,^ and in all of them the first, third, fifth, etc.
units are grouped together, and this group is contrasted with
that consisting of the second, fourth, sixth, etc. The three
contexts in which this patterning is developed are: the
alternation of generations, the alternation of initiatory grades,
and the alternation of siblings.
A man's own generation, his paternal grandfather's genera-
tion, and his patrilineal grandson's generation, are grouped
together as one mbapma (literally "line"), and in contrast to
this his father's and his son's generations are of the opposite
mbapma. I have already mentioned that theories of reincarna-
tion are linked up with this alternation and I need only add
here that a man may address his father's father either as
nggwail (grandfather) or as nyamun (elder brother). This
identification of relatives with others in analogous positions
two generations away on a patrilineal line runs through the
whole kinship system, so that a man's son's wife is nyame
(mother) and his son's wife's brother is wau (mother's
brother).
The initiatory system, the second context in which the
^ There are one or tvv'o minor instances of seriation without grading,
e.g. the planting of yams in rows and the arrangement of house posts.
In these instances there is no alternation.
The Eidos of latmul Culture
245
same sort of alternation occurs, can only be described very
briefly here.
Ax I
By
3
4
5
f.
('•\
\7)
Bx
3
■+
5
f,
(7)
Figure 4. Diagram of Initiatory Groups.
The two cross-cutting moieties are marked A and B, and
X and jy. Thus the resulting quadrants are Ax and Ay ; By and
Bx. Members of a moiety initiate youths of the opposite
moiety. Thus the members of Ax initiate By, and Ay initiate
Bx. Each quadrant is divided into three named generation
groups: I, 3, 5 or 2, 4, 6; such that i are the fathers of 3,
who are the fathers of 5 ; while 2 are the fathers of 4, who
are the fathers of 6.
The system is so arranged that one of the moieties, A or B,
is always senior to the other. In the Diagram, A is repre-
sented as senior to B. Thus, of the generation groups in A,
each is slightly senior to the corresponding group in B.
Members of Ax i initiated the members of By 2. Ax 3 are
now initiating By 4. Ax 5 are only just ready for initiation
but will later be initiated by By 4. By 6 are all small children.
Similarly, Ay i initiated Bx 2, etc.
In course of time, Ax i will die off and a new generation Ax 7
will appear. The moiety B will then become senior to A and
their seniority will be recognised when they assert their strength
violently in a brawl. By 4 will then begin initiating Ax 5.
In this beautiful system the groups i, 3, 5 are united, and
opposed to 2, 4, 6, which alternate with them and are always
246 The Eidos of latmiil Culture
their junior by about half a generation. Thus the pattern of
thought which appeared as an alternation of generations in
the patrilineal clan here appears as an alternation of half-
generation groups which are staggered like the spokes of a
wheel.
Throughout the system each grade is spoken of as the
"elder brother" of the grade next below. Thus i is elder
brother of 2, and 2 of 3, etc. This usage links up with the
third context in which the same patterning occurs.
In large families in which there is a long series of brothers,
the same sort of alternation is expected. The language pos-
sesses five terms (not numerals) for first, second, third, fourth
and fifth child respectively ; and it is expected that, in their
quarrels over the patrimony in which they share before the
father dies, the first and third brothers will join forces against
the second and fourth. I asked about the fifth brother but
was told "he would be too little, he would watch them".
Lastly there is one other context in which I am tempted
to see a development of the same type of pattern, namely in
the structure of flute music. ^ The initiatory flutes have no
lateral stops by which the player might control and vary the
pitch. He is therefore limited to the series of natural har-
monics provided by the tube. A flute will give about seven
notes distributed over three octaves, but the intervals between
the notes are too large to admit of any tune being produced
by a single flute. This difficulty is overcome by a scheme of
alternation. The flutes are always played in pairs and in each
pair one flute is one tone higher than the other. In the playing,
as a result of the difference in pitch between the two instru-
ments, the harmonics of the one alternate with the harmonics
of the other ; so that the two performers, who blow in turn,
can together produce simple tunes. The flute of lower pitch
is spoken of as the "elder brother" of the other, though for
totemic purposes the pair of flutes is taken as a unit.
Whether this staggering of the harmonics of flutes is really
another expression of the sort of thinking with which we are
here concerned may perhaps be doubted. But from the
alternation of generations, initiatory grades, and brothers,
^ The Eagle, St John's College Magazine, 1935, p. 258.
The Eidos of lattnul Culture 247
the reality of the phenomenon is clear enough. So far as
I know, this pattern of thought is not recognisable in the
shaping of naven, apart from such small points as the identi-
fication of man's sister's husband's father as a laua (cf.
distribution of pigs, p. 18). But I have described this alterna-
tion in some detail because of its general interest and because
I believe that we may see in it a combination of the two types
of dualist thinking, an intrusion of diagonal thought into
contexts where direct identification and the principle of
seniority were already at work. Thus between pairs of
brothers only these two factors are concerned, but in longer
series we find the principle of symmetrical oppositeness
breaking up the series.
In this connection it is interesting to compare the myth
of the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, with the alternations
characteristic of latmul eidos. Of these twins, Castor was
mortal and Pollux was immortal. The mortal twin was finally
killed in battle and his immortal brother then interceded with
Zeus who granted him, as a favour, that he should share his
immortality with his brother. From that time, they have
existed on alternate days.^
The resemblance between the alternation of the Heavenly
Twins and that of brothers and initiatory grades among the
latmul is striking; but we may cautiously ask what, if any-
thing, it signifies. In the first place it is obvious that an
eidological resemblance between two cultures need have no
significance from a sociological or ethological point of view.
Still less will it imply any historical connection between the
cultures. The resemblance between the two systems has only
been demonstrated within strictly defined limits and we have
no right, when we draw our conclusions, to wander outside
these limits into realms of history, sociology, or economics.
We cannot rush on to deduce from the eidological resem-
blance that the relationship between brothers among the
Greeks and the latmul is alike in any single pattern of
^ Other versions of this story occur and are less comparable with the
alternations of latmul culture. It is said, for example, that Pollux was
permitted to spend his days alternately among the gods and with his
brother in Hades.
248 The Eidos of latmul Culture
cultural behaviour. It is obvious that the same eidos might
be expressed in the two cultures by means of very different
forms of behaviour.
The only conclusion then which we are entitled to draw
is that comparable patterns of thought occur in the Greek
and latmul cultures, and we may note that in both cultures
these patterns are expressed in contexts of the relationship
between brothers. Further than this we cannot go. But if
the strict isolation of eidological, ethological and sociological
points of view permits us even this much freedom in com-
paring the details of one culture with those of another I be-
lieve that it will be worth while. Hitherto we have had no
criteria of equivalence which would indicate either what com-
parisons might be permissible or what sort of conclusions
we might base upon the resemblances which we found.
I suggest that, if we discipline ourselves to think rigidly
in terms of one sort of social or cultural function at a time,
we shall be free at last to compare a detail from one culture
with a detail from another, knowing what we are comparing
and what sort of deductions may be made from the com-
parison. It is true that our conclusions will be so limited
in scope as to appear almost useless, but at least they will
have one use, that of suggesting further problems. While
eidological conclusions can throw no light upon other aspects
of cultural behaviour, they may at least suggest problems,
the answers to which must be sought in terms of these other
aspects. The detection of similar eidos in two different cul-
tures may well stimulate an enquiry into the sociology or
economics of the peoples concerned.
■^ Another comparative point which will almost certainly
repay investigation may be seen in the resemblance between
the latmul kinship system and the class systems of Australia,
Ambrym, etc. In all these systems we may recognise both
diagonal and direct dualist thought, and in all of them we
find an emphasis upon the alternation of generations. One
conspicuous difference, however, between the Australian
systems and that of the latmul is that the former are closed.
An Australian community is divided into a fixed number of
groups, and it is laid down which group shall marry which
The Eidos of latmul Culture 249
group and which generation shall marry which generation.
This is not so in the latmul system, and even if the latmul
confined themselves more rigidly to iai marriage they would
not have a closed system like those of Australia. Here,
I believe that we are concerned with a rather important
motif of latmul thought. The natives see their community,
not as a closed system, but as an infinitely proliferating and
ramifying stock. A clan will grow big and it will subdivide;
a village will grow big and it will send out colonies. The idea
that a community is closed is probably incompatible with
this idea of it as something which continually divides and
sends out oflPspring "like the rhizome of a lotus".
It is worth speculating about another difference between
Australian kinship and that of the latmul. It would appear
from the accounts of Australian kinship that these people
think of the assignment of kinship terms as determined by
the system of social groups ; in fact, that in Australia classi-
ficatory kinship is really classificatory . In contrast to this,
the latmul certainly assign kinship terms rather on a basis.
of extension from the family itself. We are not concerned
here with the question of how in the dim past such and such
a term came to be assigned to such and such a relative, but
rather with the purely synchronic question of what method
of thought the people use now in assigning kinship terms to
their various relatives, and it is clear that in a classificatory
system it is possible to argue either from the social groups
to the family or from the family to the social groups. It is
probable at least that some peoples do one while other peoples
do the other. In the case of the latmul, I should say that this
people assigns terms upon a basis of extension rather than
of classification.
This is a matter about which there has been a certain
amount of discussion in anthropological circles, and it would
appear that some anthropologists are prone to one way of
thinking, while others are prone to the other. It would be
important to know whether some native peoples differ from
others in this same respect. It is likely that some cultures
promote the inductive methods of thinking, while others
promote the deductive.
250 The Eidos of latmul Culture
If there be a possibility that the ways of thought of anthro-
pologists occur, too, among primitive peoples, what then are
we to say of the various ways of thinking which have been
advocated in this book? We may profitably at this stage go
back over the system which we have constructed and consider
what it means in terms of native eidos. We have documented
the fact that ever^' piece of behaviour is relevant (a) to society
as a whole, (b) to the emotions of the individual, and {c) to
the thought of the individual, and we have trained ourselves
to think separately in terms of each one of these forms of
relevance. In addition to these forms of relevance there are
others which we might have studied : notably we might have
considered the whole culture as a mechanism oriented to-
wards the production, distribution and consumption of
material objects, or again as a mechanism which moulds the
personalities of the individuals.
The suggestion which I now wish to put forward is that
native peoples themselves are more or less conscious of these
various aspects of their behaviour, and that cultures may
differ profoundly in the extent to which one or the other
aspect is emphasised^ in the consciousness of the in-
dividuals.
If we ask an individual why he behaves in a particular way,
there are certainly five types of answer which he may give.
He may say :
1. "This behaviour promotes the well-being of the com-
munity", answering our question in sociological terms.
2. "This behaviour is customary, or traditional, or con-
sistent with other behaviour", answering our question in
structural terms.
3. "This behaviour gives me certain types of emotional
satisfaction"; or "it gives emotional satisfaction or dissatis-
faction to other people, and I enjoy that", answering our
question in ethological terms.
* It is doubtful, perhaps, to what extent this sort of standardisation
should be regarded as either ethos or eidos, but I do not think that this
question need bother us materially at present. It is possible that some
other term should be introduced for these various sorts of standardisation,
but the syndromes associated with them have not yet been sufficiently
investigated to justify the introduction of further terminology.
The Eidos of I atmul Culture 251
4. "This behaviour will supply such and such useful
objects ", answering our question in economic terms.
5. " This behaviour will train my mind, or somebody else's
mind", or "it results from my upbringing", answering our
question in developmental terms.
But, as we have seen, at any rate in the case of the first
three points of view, all the sorts of relevance are actually
present in all behaviour.
The question which we have to decide is, granted that all
the aspects are present, Is the individual equally conscious
of them all ? I would suggest that in different cultures these
different aspects are stressed in varying degrees, and that a
profound difference appears in a personality according as one
or the other aspect of behaviour is chiefly conscious.
In enquiring into this matter, however, one precaution is
very necessary. The reader will have noticed that a certain
effort of mental acrobatics is required to shift the mind from
thinking in terms of one point of view to thinking in terms
of another, and further that he himself thinks more readily
in terms of one or another of the points of view. I myself
tend, at least in conscious levels of my mind, to think most
readily in structural terms; and in estimating the relative
emphasis in latmul culture of these different methods of
thought I may have been influenced by this bias. It is
probable that the questions which I asked of my informants
were so phrased as to indicate that I expected an answer in
structural terms.
We have seen that in latmul culture, sociological concepts
are usually expressed in symbolic terms. The well-being and
fertility of the community is ascribed to the spiritual beings
called mbwan or kop\ the fighting force of the village is
symbolised by the eagle ; and the unity of the initiating grade
is represented by the crocodile.
A more interesting series of sociological and other phrasings
is provided by native statements about the vengeance sanc-
tion (cf. p. 55). We have seen that there are various phrasings
of the matter. We have first the phrasing in terms of ngglambi,
the dark cloud which is seen over the house of the guilty
man and which may cause the sickness of his relatives. This
252 The Eidos of latmul Culture
phrasing with its loose inclusion of the whole group of the
sinner's relatives we may regard as sociological. Secondly,
we have the phrasing in terms of wagan, and this too would
seem to be a sociological phrasing, differing from the first
in that the group of individuals whose unity is here symboli-
cally represented is, not the group of the relatives of the
offender, but the clan of the offended man. It is the wagan
of that clan who avenges the offence against one of the clan
members. Thirdly, we have the phrasing in terms of indi-
vidual vengeance or lex talionis. Here the matter is stated
simply in terms of the emotions and motives of individuals
and the symmetry of their behaviour; while the symbolism
characteristic of the more sociological phrasings has dis-
appeared.
In all such sociological phrasings we may recognise the
development of a system of thought which fits in well enough
with the theory of religion put forward by Durkheim, and
we may suspect that inasmuch as sociological phrasings tend
to be symbolic, this aspect of behaviour is not one which is
emphasised in latmul consciousness.
It is interesting in this connection to consider how in
modern European "totalitarian" communities, whether they
be Fascist or Communist, an aspect of behaviour which was
formerly almost ignored is now stressed by propaganda of
every sort. The individual is made to see his behaviour more
and more as relevant to the State. Conscious phrasing of the
sociological motive in terms of the State seems to replace
a former symbolic phrasing of the matter in terms of a deity.
Structural phrasings, on the other hand, seem to me to be
much more developed in latmul culture. The wau is articu-
lately stated to be a mother, and much of his behaviour is
seen by the natives as consistent with this major premise.
A great deal of cultural behaviour, too, is seen by the natives
as "traditional", and this, I think, is probably an expression
of a structural point of view. The statement is one which
involves no elaborate syllogism: it amounts on examination
merely to saying that a thing is done because it has been done
in the past. But this is, after all, a statement of structural
consistency.
The Eidos of latmul Culture 253
Another feature of latmul culture which is probably an
expression of structural thinking is the native tendency to
pithy cliches. " She was a fine woman" — so they married her
inside the clan. I do not know exactly to what extent phrases
of this sort are cliches or proverbs, but they were enunciated
by my informants with an intonation quite different from
that which would accompany a statement of the motives for
behaviour.
Another example of the latmul interest in the structural
aspects of behaviour may be seen in their insistence upon the
schematic qualities and the straightness of their marriage
system (p. 9 1 ) and of their lists of totemic names (pp. 1 27, 128).
We may suspect that this emphasis upon the structural
viewpoint is linked up with a lack of emotional ease which
we have seen to be characteristic of the latmul men and, if
this correlation be correct, then there is a possibility that a
structural view of the world is an important symptom in the
syndrome which Kretschmer has called schizothymia ; and
questions arise as to the possibility of schismogenesis between
personalities which emphasise one of these points of view and
personalities which emphasise another.
Phrasings in terms of emotion are, on the other hand,
rather rarer among latmul men, and the only two which I can
recall are phrasings of unpleasant emotion — ngglangga and
kianta — the former a reference to the emotion of a man whose
pride has been hurt, which might perhaps be translated as
" pique ", the latter a term for jealousy. Both of these terms
are occasionally used in stating the reasons for behaviour,
but I never heard any reference to pleasant emotions as the
cause of any detail of behaviour. The term wowia kugwa,
"to be in love", is used almost solely of women, and it is
likely that among the women emotional phrasings of reasons
for behaviour are very much more frequent than among the
men.
Economic phrasings occur not infrequently in the culture.
But though records are kept of every bride price, and though
a latmul man is very capable of driving a hard bargain, there
is in this Papuan culture none of the enormous economic
emphasis which is so characteristic of the majority of Mela-
254 The Eidos of latmul Culture
nesian peoples. Currency and trade and the accumulation
of wealth could never be described as the major pre-occupa-
tions of the latmul. It might be worth enquiring into the
relationship between cultural emphasis upon economic aspects
of behaviour and the type of personality called anal in psycho-
analytic jargon.
Another point of view which a native people may adopt
is the calendric, and here I can only speak very tentatively.
I myself have so little appreciation of time that I omitted
almost entirely to enquire into this aspect of latmul culture.
My impression is, however, that among the latmul there is
very little emphasis upon this aspect of behaviour. The most
important men, with whom it rested to decide when a given
ceremony should occur, gave me occasionally rather inarticu-
late statements about this periodicity of wagan and mwai
ceremonies, but though I once or twice tried to get this
periodicity clear, I never succeeded: my informants seemed
to vary in their opinions. Even on the subject of the lunar
calendar informants were but little interested and obviously
ignorant. The difficulty here was that the calendar is not
simply lunar, but is also controlled by the water level.
Nominally the year consists of twelve moons, of which five
are moons of high water and five are moons of low water.
Between each of these groups of five moons, there is an inter-
mediate moon. But inasmuch as the rising and falling of the
river is very irregular, my informants were generally doubtful
as to what month it was at any given time. The astronomical
year of 365 days contains of course approximately thirteen
lunar months, so that with their theory of twelve moons in
the year, the latmul could never be precise in the identifica-
tion of the moons in their calendar.
In general the occupations of the men seemed to be but
little regulated by the time of day, and the performance of
even the more important ceremonies is liable to be postponed
in the most erratic manner. Ceremonies which are to be
performed at night usually take place when the moon is full,
but they are not infrequently postponed from one full moon
to another, and sometimes this postponement leads to a dance
being held after the water has risen and the dancing ground
The Eidos of latmul Culture 255
is flooded. In such cases a platform is constructed on canoes
for the use of the dancers.
I have stated that ethos and eidos are an expression of the
affective and cognitive aspects of personahty, but it is worth
stressing that other aspects of the personahty may also be
standardised, and we may here very briefly consider some
of these aspects :
1. Apollonian and Dionysian. Dr Benedict^ has described
two extreme poles of a possible variation in personality, and
has shown that these extremes may be standardised in culture.
It is not perfectly clear, however, how the syndromes which
she has called Apollonian and Dionysian are related to ethos
and eidos. My own impression is that in Apollonian per-
sonality we have a standardisation which might occur with
many types of organisation of the emotions and sentiments.
But until the phenomena of dissociation have been properly
related to other psychological phenomena, and especially
until we have some idea of what we mean by consciousness,
it will not be possible to define these poles of variation more
precisely.
2. Tempo. It is a common impression of those who visit
foreign countries that the natives are either faster or slower,
brighter or duller in their reactions than the members of the
observer's own community. This impression is no doubt due
to some form of cultural standardisation of the personalities
concerned, and should be investigated. We do not know, for
example, whether reaction time can be affected by culture.
3. Perseveration. In some cultures it appears that the
individuals take great precautions to avoid receiving or giving
each other sudden emotional shocks. Miss Lindgren tells
me that among the Mongols a man who comes with exciting
news, even though his news be of a nature to demand hasty
action, will not impart it till some time has elapsed. It is
likely that cultures vary considerably in the flexibility which
they demand of the individual, and it would be important
to know something of the position of an over-flexible indi-
vidual in a culture which expects a high degree of persevera-
^ Patterns oj Culture, 1935.
256 The Eidos of latmul Culture
tion, and the fate of an emotionally stiff individual in a
culture which demands flexibility.
4. Lastly we may remember that this book has been
devoted solely to a synchronic view of latmul culture, and it
is possible that individuals and cultures vary in the extent
to which they see the world either as a product of the past or
as a mechanism working in the present.
At present it is not profitable to do more than suggest the
existence of these other types of standardisation of per-
sonality, but it is possible that a study of these psychological
phenomena in their cultural settings will contribute some-
thing to our understanding of the phenomena themselves;
and that cultural anthropology has important contributions
to make to the subject of individual psychology. Advances
in either of these subjects will always contribute to advances
in the other, and the concept of cultural standardisation of
personality is a link between them.
CHAPTER XVI
Epilogue ig^6
THE writing of this book has been an experiment, or
rather a series of experiments, in methods of thinking
about anthropological material, and it remains to report
upon how I was led to carry out these experiments, to evaluate
the techniques which I devised, and to stress what I regard
as my most important results.
My field work was scrappy and disconnected — perhaps
more so than that of other anthropologists. After all, we set
out to do the impossible, to collect an exceedingly complex
and entirely foreign culture in a few months; and every
sincere anthropologist when he comes back to England dis-
covers shocking gaps in his field work. But my case was
somewhat worse. The average anthropologist has some de-
finite interest in some one aspect of the culture he is studying,
whether it be in historical reconstruction, in material culture,
in economics, or in functional analysis, and he will at least
collect an adequate supply of material for a book permeated
by his particular point of view. But I had no such guiding
interest when I was in the field ; I was (and still am) sceptical
of historical reconstructions; I could not (and still cannot)
see that orthodox functional analysis was likely to lead any-
where; and lastly my own theoretical approaches {Oceania,
1932, pp. 484 ff.) proved too vague to be of any use in the
field.
I did not clearly see any reason why I should enquire into
one matter rather than another. If an informant told me a
tale of sorcery and murder, I did not know what question
to ask next — and this not so much from lack of training as
from excess of scepticism. In general therefore, apart from a
few standard procedures such as the collection of genealogies
and kinship terminology, I either let my informants run on
freely from subject to subject, or asked the first question
which came into my head. Occasionally I made an informant
258 Epilogue 1936
go back to some previous subject of conversation, but I
should have found it hard to give theoretical reasons for such
special attention to certain subjects.
This method, or lack of it, was wasteful, but it has its
compensations. I know, for example, how great a value the
natives set upon their enormous system of totemic names;
and I know this, not from some colourless statement, but
from the curious experience of writing down thousands,
literally, of names at my informants' bidding ; and I know it
too from the more bitter experience of finding my note-books
full of names when I searched them for information about
preferred types.
The arrival of a part of the manuscript of Dr Benedict's
Patterns of Culture, an event already mentioned in the
Foreword, together with conversations with Drs Fortune and
Margaret Mead, gave me a vague clue to what I wanted to
do in anthropology, and in the last three months before I left
New Guinea I tried to follow this up. I realised then the
importance of method in field work, and endeavoured in the
last part of my time to make up for some of the deficiencies
in my notes on the most ordinary subjects. I recognised the
significance of the contrast in ethos between the sexes, but
I did not devise any special methods of enquiry which might
have been relevant to an ethological approach. It was only
after I had returned to England that I realised the importance
of observing the reactions of one sex to the behaviour of the
other, or of collecting native statements about preferred
types. When an informant told me that Woli-ndambwi had
a big nose (cf. p. 162) I wrote his statement down, but with
no idea that this detail of the culture might be of any par-
ticular interest.
I am here stressing the lack of method in my field work
in order to satisfy those who may say that I have ' ' selected
my facts to fit my theories ". Some selection has, of course,
occurred in the process of creaming my note-books, but this
has been done in England. The actual noting of facts was
done at random before I even dreamt of ethos, eidos and
schismogenesis, and I emphasise these considerations now
because they will never be applicable to my future work
Epilogue 1936 259
when I hope to select facts which shall be relevant to my
problems.
When I came to the task of fitting my observations together
into a consecutive account, I was faced with a mass of the
most diverse and disconnected material. I had for example
a number of stories of sorcery and retribution, but to not
one of them was appended a systematic study of the relevant
facts of kinship, technique, emotional attitude, etc. I had
collected, of course, not isolated facts, but facts in little
bunches: the facts in some bunches were grouped on a
chronological basis, and in other bunches they were grouped
on a structural basis, and so on. No one system of organisa-
tion ran through the material, but in general my groups of
facts had been put together by my informants, so that the
systems of grouping were based upon native rather than
scientific thought. Out of this material I had to construct
a picture of latmul culture. If in the circumstances I have
managed to demonstrate some coherence in the culture, this
achievement is the best testimony to the usefulness of the
methods of analysis.
An account of the various steps which have led to the con-
struction of this book will serve as a summary of my sug-
gestions, and the narration of the errors, into which I fell
by the way, may be of use to any who care to follow.
One detail of the Palimbai naven had struck me with great
force. I had previously seen transvestite women, proud of
their male ornaments, and had even published an account
of the Mindimbit naven ceremonies, but I had not before seen
the transvestite wau. I had never realised that he was a figure
of fun. My whole mental picture of naven had been wrong,
and wrong because, though I had been told what was done,
I had no idea of the emotional aspects of the behaviour.
Though I did not know what it meant, I knew that the
wau's buffooning had altered my whole conception of naven,
and, if this was so, the contrast between the bedraggled
transvesticism of the men and the proud wearing of homicidal
ornaments by the women must somehow contain an important
clue to latmul culture. The change in my way of thinking had
arisen from the addition of emotional emphasis to what was
26o Epilogue 1936
originally a purely formal picture, and so I came to believe
that ethos was the thing that mattered.
Much later, after I had returned to England, I found from
my photographs that women, when they are decorated for
public ceremonial, wear ornaments such as are usually worn
only by men, and this discovery led me to consider the
analogy of the fashionable horsewomen and to develop the
theory of latmul transvesticism which I have put forward
in Chapter xiv.
How sound this theory may be I can hardly judge, but it
is put forward in all seriousness, and I have a special affection
for it since, though now the theory stands as a rather unim-
portant detail in the book, it was from this detail that the
whole synthesis grew. At the International Congress in the
summer of 1934, I read a paper to the Sociology Section on
my theory of latmul transvesticism. In it, I gave sketches
of the naven ceremonial and of the ethos of each sex in latmul
culture. I felt that I had accounted rather satisfactorily for
the curious details of naven, and I was still sure that ethos was
the thing that mattered.
After the Congress, I started to rewrite this small paper on
transvesticism, thinking that it was worth publishing, and
that I could afterwards use the paper as the skeleton of a book
on latmul culture. But the paper grew by the addition first
of one method of approach and then of another, until it has
become the present book, and now its purpose is no longer
to put forward a theory of latmul transvesticism, but to sug-
gest methods of thinking about anthropological problems.
The first difficulty that I encountered was over the fact
that latmul men wear aprons and latmul women wear skirts.
I felt that my ethological theory was a fairly satisfactory
description of the ceremonial transvesticism, but I could not
account for the simple circumstance that on more ordinary
occasions special clothes were worn by each sex; and this
differentiation was clearly necessary if transvesticism was to
occur in the culture. But the problem did not worry me
seriously, and I dismissed the matter. It was a rule of the
culture, a "formulation", that individuals of different sex
should wear different clothes. Indeed, I dismissed the matter
Epilogue 1936 261
so effectively that I have nowhere in the book stated the
obvious fact that the differentiation of clothing according to
sex is one of the factors which "promote" transvesticism.
The matter became more serious when I asked why it
should be the mother's brother who performs those antics
and not the father. Again I took refuge in the terms " formula-
tion" and "structure". The kinship system, "built up" of
formulations, was part of the structure of society, and the
naven was "built upon" this structure. It appeared, then,
that there was another "thing" called "structure" which
mattered in the culture.
While ethos appeared to me to consist of preferred types
and behaviour which was expressive of emotion, structure
consisted of the kinship system and other "formulations".
If a man scolded his wife, his behaviour was ethos ; but if he
married his father's sister's daughter, it was structure. I even
went so far as to think of the structure as a network of chan-
nels which guided the ethos, and were shaped by it (cf. foot-
note, p. 121). Looking back now, it is almost incredible that
I ever thought along such lines or used such metaphors, and
I find it quite difficult to write of my early theories without
caricature.
It took quite a long time to get away from these fallacies,
and I had advanced in other directions before I escaped.
I added what I used to call "pragmatic function" to my list
of the subdivisions of culture. This was a mixture of the
"satisfaction of the needs of individuals" and the "integra-
tion of society". The confusion between these two sorts of
social function was a result of muddling two almost un-
related facts : that allegiance is needed by the wau, and that
it also serves to integrate society. I still regarded ethos,
structure, and pragmatic function as categories into which
culture could be subdivided, and I had even started to write
the last chapter of the book before I escaped from this morass.
In this last chapter I intended to examine the inter-relations
between these different subdivisions of culture, and I found
that I had given no clear criterion for discriminating the
elements of culture which I would pigeon-hole as ethos from
those which I would pigeon-hole as structure or pragmatic
262 Epilogue 1936
function. I began to doubt the validity of my categories,
and performed an experiment. I chose three bits of culture :
(a) a wau giving food to a laua; a pragmatic bit, (b) a man
scolding his wife ; an ethological bit, and (c) a man marrying
his father's sister's daughter; a structural bit. Then I drew
a lattice of nine squares on a large piece of paper, three rows
of squares with three squares in each row. I labelled the
horizontal rows with my bits of culture and the vertical
columns with my categories. Then I forced myself to see
each bit as conceivably belonging to each category. I found
that it could be done.
I found that I could think of each bit of culture structurally ;
I could see it as in accordance with a consistent set of rules^ or
formulations. Equally, I could see each bit as "pragmatic",
either as satisfying the needs of individuals or as contributing
to the integration of society. Again, I could see each bit
ethologically, as an expression of emotion.
This experiment may seem puerile, but to me it was very
important, and I have recounted it at length because there
may be some among my readers who tend to regard such
concepts as "structure" as concrete parts which "interact"
in culture, and who find, as I did, a difficulty in thinking of
these concepts as labels merely for points of view adopted
either by the scientist or by the natives. It is instructive too
to perform the same experiment with such concepts as eco-
nomics, kinship and land tenure, and even religion, language,
and "sexual life" do not stand too surely as categories of
behaviour, but tend to resolve themselves into labels for
points of view from which all behaviour may be seen.
The matter may be re-phrased, either in terms of points
of view adopted by the scientist, or in terms of aspects of
the behaviour. We must expect to find that every piece of
behaviour has its ethological, structural and sociological
significance.^
^ This legalistic phrasing of cultural structure I have since dropped,
and have substituted the term premises for rules or formulations, empha-
sising the consistent nature of cultural structure and ignoring the question
of whether it is enforced, and whether it is articulately formulated by
the natives.
* I do not claim to have detected the fallacy of "misplaced concrete-
Epilogue 1936 263
This meant that I had only to keep clearly before me the
conviction that ethos, structure, etc. were merely points of
view or aspects of the culture, and to look for each aspect
in every piece of behaviour and in every native statement.
But this was still difficult. In the first place, the habit of
thought which attributes concreteness to aspects of phe-
nomena is one which dies hard. The fallacy which Whitehead
has pilloried has been an important principle or motif of
European eidos, certainly since the days of Greek philosophy.
It has taken me over a year to drop the habit even partially,
and I fear that many passages in the book may be still more
or less infected with it, in spite of drastic revision.
Another difficulty was that of keeping my points of view
distinct and separate. Constantly I wandered from the point
of view which was appropriate in the chapter on which I was
working and found, for example, that I had inserted a para-
graph of structural phrasings into a chapter on ethos. One
instance of this is worth narrating: I had been much im-
pressed by the tone of the debate on the profanation of the
junior ceremonial house (cf. p. 100) and from my enquiries
about this debate the fact had emerged that there are no
serious sanctions inside an initiatory grade. This I recognised
as a fact of prime importance, and I made a note that this
lack of internal sanctions should be inserted into the chapter
describing ethos in the ceremonial house. Later I wrote
several pages on the matter for insertion there, and it was
not until I re-read what I had written that I found that these
pages were nothing but sociology. They then became the
nucleus of the second half of the sociological chapter.
This example will serve to show how misplaced concrete-
ness tends to confuse the separable aspects. My sequence of
thought, though inarticulate, had run something like this:
the tone of this debate is striking ; the debate is " pure ethos " ;
therefore the generalisation which I got from that debate is
ethos.
I was bothered, too, by the feeling that if the natives them-
ness" independently of Whitehead, and should perhaps never have suc-
ceeded in disentangling the matter if conversations with C. H. Wad-
dington had not planted the seeds of Whitehead's philosophy in my mind.
264 Epilogue 1936
selves discriminated, as the natives of Western Europe do,
between economics and law, and regarded these as subdivisions
rather than as aspects of culture, I ought to accept their view
of the matter and adopt their categories. Later, when I was
working on latmul eidos it occurred to me that we ought to
look for a standardisation in the various cultures of the world
of those very methods of thought which I had myself been
advocating: and when I realised that people might think
sometimes structurally and sometimes in terms of economics
and sometimes in terms of ethos or sociology, then I under-
stood that I need worry no more about native ideas of the
subdivision of culture. I was justified in expecting every
aspect to be represented in every bit of behaviour, and the
fact that the natives were conscious only of one of these
aspects in a given context was a point which might be
significant in an eidological examination of the culture.
For me, the escape from the fallacy of misplaced concrete-
ness was an enormous advance, and I hope that others may
find that the account of my adventures helps them to see
their problems more clearly and simply. From then on, the
construction of the system of abstractions which I have put
forward was a comparatively easy matter. But three other
steps in the process may be mentioned, if only to give honour
where honour is due :
The separation of sociology from my jumble of "pragmatic
functions". This was due to Professor Radcliflfe-Brown.
I gave a paper in Chicago outlining my system of abstractions,
and Professor Radcliffe-Bro\Mi observed that I used the term
"structure" in a sense different from his; that he used it to
refer to the structure of society, while I was using it for what
he then proposed to call " cultural structure ". Following this
up, I resolved my "pragmatic function" into two separate
abstractions: "sociology" in the strict sense of the term and
what I have called "motivation" or the "expression of ethos
in behaviour".
The isolation of eidos from ethos. This resulted from the
awkwardness of my use of the term " logic " in the definition
of cultural structure. I found that a footnote was necessary
to explain that we must expect to find diflferent sorts of " logic "
Epilogue 1936 265
in different cultures, and in writing this footnote I realised
that I ought to describe the logic of latmul culture as fully
as I could, and that this was an important aspect of the
culture. "Ethos", in my old phrasing, was subdivisible then
into two major abstractions, ethos and eidos, which were
related to each other as the affective aspects of behaviour
are related to the cognitive, I therefore dropped the old,
wider use of the term "ethos" to cover all those pervasive
characteristics of a culture which can be ascribed to thie
standardisation of the individuals, and now use Dr Benedict's
term, configuration y in this wide sense. Dr Benedict has agreed
with me in conversation that, in her original use of this term,
she intended it to include the standardisation of many dif-
ferent aspects of personality, and it is convenient to have a
general term for the combination of all these aspects of
culture.
It is unfortunate that, although the awkward word " logic"
led to the concept of eidos, the working out of this concept
has contributed virtually nothing to mitigate the awkwardness
of "logic". This I think is perhaps the weakest point in the
exposition of my system. I am reasonably satisfied that cul-
tural structure is an important and isolable aspect of behaviour,
but the exact phrasing of the sort of consistency characteristic
of culture when seen from this viewpoint has still eluded me.
Closely connected with this difficulty is that of discrimi-
nating the affective from the cognitive aspects of personality.
I am aware that psychologists are inclined nowadays to look
askance at the terms affective and cognitive, but I still hope
that if we first grant that these terms are aspects and not
categories of behaviour, and then go on to compare the ethos
and eidos of various cultures, we may in the end arrive at a
better understanding of thought and emotion.
Schismogenesis. This concept has developed very slowly
from conversations with Drs Margaret Mead and Fortune.
Dr Mead contributed an idea of the very first importance,
that of complementary ethos. But for a long time after I
returned to England I still thought of the phenomena in
static terms, as types of ethos or types of personality. I allowed
myself to be influenced unduly by the conclusions of typo-
266 Epilogue 1936
logical psychology. Gradually I realised that if there existed
this complementary relationship between the ethoses of the
two sexes in latmul culture, it was evident from the special
nature of this relationship that each ethos must have some
formative or directive action upon the other. From such
concrete phrasings of the matter the concept of comple-
mentary schismogenesis developed.
Later, out of a conversation about European politics with
Alan Barlow, I developed the idea of symmetrical schismo-
genesis. The chapter on these processes is a result of com-
bining these two lines of thought and leavening the mixture
with a little Hegelian dialectic.
Such then have been the steps which have led me to the
isolation of five major points of view for the study of the
behaviour of human beings in society — structural (and eido-
logical), emotional (and ethological), economic, developmental
and sociological. I have given no samples of the developmental
and economic methods, but I have tried to give a sketch of
latmul culture from each of the other points of view. The
result has been that in each chapter, according to the method
adopted, different parts of the culture have been set side by
side. In the structural chapter, the most diverse contexts
of the culture have been set side by side to demonstrate
the identifications relevant to the naven behaviour of the
mother's brother. In the sociological chapter we have seen
the naven ceremony set beside the marriage system as part
of a great mechanism for the integration of the society. In the
ethological chapters, characteristic expressions of latmul
emotion have been collected together from the contexts
of everyday life, head-hunting and initiation, and from
this collection we were able to go on to attribute specific
emotional value to the behaviour of the various relatives in
naven. Finally in the chapter on latmul eidos, I have set
side by side the patterns of latmul totemism, initiatory grades
and even flute music to give a picture of the ways of thought
of the latmul. In fact, whatever our method, our material
is the same and includes the whole ordered diversity of
latmul behaviour.
But though the material for our studies is the same what-
Epilogue 1936 267
ever aspect of the culture we intend to study, it is by no means
immaterial in what order we investigate the different aspects.
In attributing emotional value to the details of naven be-
haviour, I have insisted that any such attribution is dangerous
until the ethos of the whole culture has been studied; and
therefore the general picture of latmul ethos necessarily pre-
cedes the chapter in which I have tried to analyse the
emotions of the various relatives in naven — and even with
this precaution, this chapter is perhaps the least satisfactory
in the book.
In the study of the logic of latmul culture I have adopted
the opposite procedure. I first outlined the premises upon
which the naven ceremony is based and only later gave a
general picture of latmul eidos. The question must therefore
be asked : why, if it is not justifiable to guess at motives before
the whole ethos has been studied, is it permissible to attribute
behaviour to specific premises before the eidos of the culture
has been sketched?
This question is, I suspect, one of considerable importance,
and its answer may well reflect upon the relation between
the affective and cognitive aspects of the personality. At
present I can only suggest two possible answers: the order
of procedure which I have been forced to adopt may be a
result either of my own psychology or of that of my informants.
I have stated that in my own conscious mental processes,
the structural and logical aspects of behaviour are more
clearly seen than the emotional, and I believe that the same
is true of the latmul men. If this observation be correct,
then in attributing emotional value to details of behaviour
I was speculating about the more unconscious processes and
therefore needed the supporting material which could only
be provided by a preliminary study of latmul ethos. But in
the case of the logical aspects of behaviour I could hope for
some degree of articulateness in my informants and could
proceed directly to the statement of consistency between
different details of behaviour.
Moreover, a greater articulateness about the structural
aspects of behaviour is characteristic not only of the natives
but also of Europeans. The English language — and perhaps
268 Epilogue 1936
all languages — is not adapted to the critical description of
emotion. While a syllogism can be stated in stark simplicity, it
is almost impossible to make any simple statement about emo-
tions. The best we can do is to sketch an ethos or a personality
in a diffuse journalistic or artistic style and then sum up that
sketch in a few words whose significance is fixed by the
sketch. Thus after giving a sketch of latmul ethos, I labelled
that ethos as " proud " and " schizothyme ". These words are
capable of a hundred different meanings, but the sense in
which I have used them is defined to some extent by my
sketch of latmul ethos. Failing such a preliminary sketch,
our attribution of emotional value to behaviour can only be
guided by general and probably fallacious assumptions about
human nature, assumptions which are so general that they
blur all differentiation of sex, temperament and culture.
In this final chapter we are trying, prematurely perhaps,
to get some general view of the different methods of approach
which have been sampled in the course of the book, and one
point is of special interest. If, whatever method we adopt,
our material is the same and the only difference between one
method and another lies in the arrangement of the material,
then it is relevant to enquire whether any subdivision of the
culture or any other systematic phenomenon has proved so
fundamental as to survive these re-shufflings of the details
of behaviour and to reappear in recognisable form in each
of our pictures.
The orthodox "subdivision" of culture into such institu-
tions as marriage, kinship, initiation, religion, etc, has entirely
disappeared ; but one phenomenon has persisted through all
the re-shufflings and has been described in different terms
in each picture. In the chapter on ethological contrast and
competition, actually the last chapter to be written, I stated
that though the concept of schismogenesis had developed out
of the study of ethos, "we should be prepared to study
schismogenesis from all the points of view — structural, etho-
logical and sociological — which I have advocated". When I
wrote this sentence I intended to postpone the study of the
sociological and structural aspects of schismogenesis to some
future work. I was aware that the Marxian historians had
Epilogue 1936 269
occupied themselves with the economic aspects of the process
and I had deduced from this that we must expect structural
and sociological aspects, but I had no idea what the process
might look like from these points of view. It was therefore
a surprise to me to find, on re-reading my manuscript, that
I had actually devoted several pages of my chapters on eidos
and sociology to the two forms of schismogenesis ; and the sur-
prise was the greater inasmuch as the concept of symmetrical
schismogenesis had been a very late addition to my theory.
The last pages of the chapter on sociology (pp. 106 et seq.)
are devoted to a discussion of the various patterns of fission
which occur in human societies. I here stressed the contrast
between the fission of latmul communities, which gives rise
to daughter groups with cultural norms similar to those of
the parent society, and the fission of European communities
which so often produces daughter groups with cultural norms
divergent from those of the parent. I noted also that the
production of daughter groups with similar norms was asso-
ciated with a peripherally oriented system of sanctions, where-
as the production of divergent daughter groups was associated
with a centripetal or hierarchic system.
These two types of fission are simply describable in terms
of symmetrical and complementary schismogenesis. I stated
that in the integration of latmul society the weakest links are
those between affinal relatives and that it is these links which
are broken when the community divides, while the links based
upon patrilineal relationships persist. The " plane of cleavage "
of this society is parallel to the patrilineal but cuts across the
matrilineal and affinal bonds.
We have seen that in this society the relationships between
father and son and between elder brother and younger brother
are complementary, while that between brothers-in-law is
symmetrical. Thus it is the symmetrical relationships which
are chiefly broken in fission, and we may reasonably suspect
that the fission itself is in part a result of symmetrical schismo-
genesis.
We found that one of the sociological functions of naven
is the strengthening of these affinal links, but it was not per-
fectly clear (cf. p. 96) why for this purpose it should be
270 Epilogue 1936
relationship between classificatory wau and laua which is
stressed rather than that between classificatory brothers-in-
law. It would seem to the European mind to be the more
natural to stress the latter relationship. But in the light of
the schismogenic position it is reasonable to suppose that
the wau-laua relationship with its accompanying difference
in age between the persons is more consistently comple-
mentary in its behaviour patterns and therefore more adapted
to function as a bond in a society which seemingly has some
difficulty in controlling symmetrical schismogenesis. More-
over, it is worth noting that the actual behaviour of the wau
in naven may be described as an insistence upon the comple-
mentary aspects of his relationship with his laua, at the
expense of the symmetrical aspects. He stresses his position
as "mother" and "wife" of his laua, thus denying the sym-
metrical aspect of the relationship connected with his position
as " brother-in-law ".
It is possible that this insistence on the complementary
patterns in the wau-laua relationship is a case of the control
of a symmetrical schismogenesis by admixture of comple-
mentary patterns of behaviour (cf. p. 193). But, since the
final fission of the community still follows a plane of cleavage
which cuts across these matrilineal and affinal bonds, we must
suppose that this attempt to control the symmetrical schismo-
genesis is not entirely successful.
In contrast to the fission of latmul communities by sym-
metrical schismogenesis, we find that, in European commu-
nities, the daughter groups generally separate from the parent
in revolt against the elaborate centripetal hierarchies — legal,
religious and military — which are a characteristic feature of
the integration of these communities. These hierarchies are all
of them built up of series of complementary relationships, and
it is therefore reasonable to suppose that the fissions are either
wholly or in part a result of complementary schismogenesis.
More than this we cannot at present say; and it is likely
that in attributing the fission of latmul communities to
symmetrical schismogenesis and that of European commu-
nities to complementary schismogenesis I have been more
sweeping in my generalisations than is strictly justified. These
Epilogue 1936 271
sweeping statements will, however, serve as sample of the
generalisations which might be carefully documented by a
study of schismogenesis in its sociological aspects.
While in the sociological chapter, schismogenesis appeared
in the guise of a classification of types of social fission, the
same process was represented in the chapter on latmul eidos
as a classification of types of dualism (pp. 237-247). I was
dissatisfied with my phrasing of "direct" and "diagonal"
dualism and had found considerable difficulty in explaining
these concepts to others; but I did not see my way to a
re-phrasing of the matter until I realised that for the terms
"direct" and "diagonal" I could substitute complementary
and symmetrical in the senses in which these terms had been
used in the description of schismogenic relationships.
This equivalence is clear from a consideration of the list
of relationships which I have classed respectively as " direct"
and "diagonal". The "direct" relationships are those be-
tween elder brother and younger brother, brother and sister,
and man and wife ; and all of these are typical complementary
relationships. The " diagonal " relationships are those between
brothers-in-law (especially brothers-in-law who have ex-
changed sisters) and between kaishi (counterparts who have
exchanged presentations of valuables, or persons whose
children have inter-married). Both of these relationships are
symmetrical.
In the "direct" relationships the importance of the com-
plementary patterning is evident from the insistence in the
lists of totemic names on difference of age between siblings
of the same sex. In the case of siblings of opposite sex, it is
significant that there is no suggestion of a difference in age,
"the difference in sex being apparently analogous to dif-
ference in age" (p. 243). We may now guess at the nature
of this analogy : these two sorts of difference are alike in that
each introduces a basis for complementary patterns into the
relationship.
In the relationships between pairs of clans and between
the two totemic moieties we observed that both forms of
dualism are recognisable. While the clans are nominally
grouped together in pairs as "elder" and "younger", the
272 Epilogue 1936
members of the clans also devote a great deal of energy to
symmetrical competition in pride of ancestry and, as a result,
the types of dualism are tangled together. We may suggest,
very tentatively, that the statement of elder and younger
brotherhood between related clans perhaps mitigates the
symmetrical competition between them. But the matter is
not clear and needs more study of the actual behaviour;
especially we need to know in what contexts the members of
a pair of clans insist upon their brotherhood and in what
contexts they compete (cf. footnote, p. 242). Without more
complete information we must disregard these groupings as
sources of evidence for the equivalence between the types of
dualism and the types of schismogenic relationship.
This equivalence is, however, clearly demonstrable in the
elaborate systems of alternation of initiatory grades and of
brothers. I described this alternation as due to "a combina-
tion of the two types of dualist thinking, an intrusion of
diagonal thought into contexts where direct identification
and the principle of seniority were already at work " (p. 247).
In terms of schismogenic patterns we may now re-state this
combination of the two forms of dualism. The relationship
between any two consecutive grades is complementary and is
marked by such steep contrasts as occur in initiation, where
the novice is the "wife " of the initiators. But the relationship
between the initiatory moieties is symmetrical. Rivalry and
combat are culturally expected between the two groups and,
in fact, this relationship provided the most clearly developed
of our examples of symmetrical schismogenesis.
As to the mechanism which determines this building up
of alternating series, I have assumed (p. 244) that the alter-
nating pattern is itself a motif of latmul eidos and that there-
fore this pattern reappears in whatever contexts are suitable.
But it is not clear that this assumption is justified or necessary.
It is possible that not the whole pattern but only the two types
of dualism are carried in the eidos. Thinking for a moment
in diachronic terms, we can see that it is unlikely that any
of these complex alternating systems has been introduced
entire by culture contact. We therefore have to consider how
the first of these systems can have developed ; only after this
Epilogue 1936 273
will it be permissible to think of the alternating pattern as
"carried by the eidos", i.e. to suppose that the other alter-
nating systems are built up on the model of the first. More-
over, I know of no native terminology to describe alternation,
and in the absence of such terminology it is likely that the
alternating systems are formed afresh in each context. It is
possible that the only standardisation provided by the eidos
is that of the two types of dualism. These the native language
expresses adequately by means of kinship terminology.
If this be so, then we must see the development of alter-
nating systems in latmul culture and their absence in our
own culture as a function of the fact that among the latmul
both complementary and symmetrical patterns are thought
of in dual terms, while in Europe though we regard comple-
mentary patterns either as dual or as arranged in hierarchies,
we do not think of patterns of rivalry and competition as
necessarily dual. Rivalry and competition in our communities
are thought of as occurring between any number of persons
with no presumption that the resulting system will be pat-
terned upon any sort of bilateral symmetry. Only if both
types of relationship are habitually thought of in dual terms
is it likely that alternating hierarchies of the latmul type
will be developed.
Another line of enquiry may be mentioned, although no
answer can be given to the questions which it raises. As in
the case of contrasting ethos we were led to ask how the
appropriate system of emotional attitudes is inculcated in each
individual, so here we may ask how the two methods of dualist
thought are inculcated. To this question I will only reply
with the awkwardly phrased suggestion that such habits of
thought are a result of observation of, and conversation about,
patterns of relationship.
But the question itself is of some academic interest in the
present context because it illustrates perhaps better than any
other the difference between ethos and eidos; and therefore
the examination of its terms may lead to a proper formulation
of the difference between affective and cognitive aspects of
personality.
In the ethological problem we had to decide how an
274 Epilogue 1936
individual is moulded so that he himself adopts a certain ethos,
a certain system of emotional attitudes in his contacts with
other people and the outside world. In behaviourist termino-
logy, we had to decide how a certain system of responses is
conditioned. But in the present problem we have to decide
how the individual is trained to discriminate and classify
relationships between persons and between groups. Thus we
are here concerned, not with systems of responses, but with
the system of classification which the individual uses upon
the stimuli.
We may therefore say that every series of events of the
type which we may call a stimulus-response has both affective
and cognitive aspects; and the aspect which we shall study
is determined by the way in which we work. If we take a
given stimulus-response and consider all the details of the
response and how they are linked together, and if we then go
on to analyse the composition of other sets of linked details
of response, we shall be studying the organisation of responses
and shall arrive at a picture of the affective aspects of the
personality. If, on the other hand, we start from a given
stimulus-response and compare this with other similar series
of events to obtain first a list of stimuli which evoke a par-
ticular detail of response and then a classification of stimuli
according to the responses which they evoke, we shall finally
arrive at a picture of the cognitive aspects of the personality.
In these procedures, it may be noted that strictly speaking
we arrive not at pictures of the individual but at pictures of
the events in which the individual is involved. This incon-
sistency disappears when we realise that the term "per-
sonality" refers not to the isolated individual but to the
individual in the world.
This definition of the terms "affective" and "cognitive"
may be expressed diagramipatically (Figs. 5 and 6). When we
find that an individual responds with reaction. A, to the
stimuli I, 3 and 5, we may say that he discriminates these
stimuli from 2, 4 and 6, and classifies them together on the
basis of some quality which they possess in common; and
we might go on from this to a more elaborate study of the
whole system of discriminations and classifications which are
Epilogue 1936 275
characteristic of that individual. Such a study would be a
study of the cognitive aspects of his personality.
At an early stage in this book (p. 25) I spoke of " syllogisms "
and "logic" in cultural structure; and it is of some interest
to consider how this would have to be re-phrased if future
work should show this definition of cognitive aspects of per-
sonality to be valuable. Briefly we should have to phrase
POSSIBLE
REACTIONS
Fig. 5. The study of cognitive
aspects of personality.
F 6
Fig. 6. The study of affective
aspects of personaHty.
the matter not in terms of logic but in terms of classifications
of behaviour. Instead of saying: "The individual exhibits
reaction, A, in response to stimuli i and 3 ; stimulus 5 re-
sembles (or is identified with) i and 3 ; therefore the indi-
vidual exhibits reaction A in response to stimulus 5 ", we
should rather say : " Stimuli i , 3 and 5 are classified together ".
From this we should proceed directly to the study of the
system of classification, the eidos of the culture.
On the affective side the matter is not quite so simple.
If we find that the individual reacts to stimulus, i , with the
simultaneous reactions. A, C and E, we may classify these
reactions together as a syndrome of symptoms of some
emotion. From this we may go on to a classification of all
the series of linked responses exhibited by the individual
and so get a general description of the affective sides of his
personality. But there are difficulties in this view and it is
possible that there are other mechanisms which link responses
276 Epilogue 1936
together, besides those systems which we may describe as
" emotions ". For the present, however, I know of no phrasing
of the matter which so nearly translates the term" emotion "
into behaviouristic language.
Such a phrasing of affect would I think have had but little
effect upon my general statement of latmul ethos. It is true
that the description which I gave of latmul ethos is very far
from a systematic account of sets of linked responses, but this
shortcoming is due, not to a weakness in my theoretical
concepts, but to the merely practical difficulty of describing
human behaviour in a critical and comprehensive manner.
When I stated that the "tone" of the men's behaviour in the
initiation ceremonies was expressive of harshness and irre-
sponsibility rather than of asceticism, I meant that the actions
i performed by them, the washing of the novice, etc., were
[accompanied by other details of behaviour so that the whole
picture was one of harshness. Until we devise techniques
ifor the proper recording and analysis of human posture,
'gesture, intonation, laughter, etc. we shall have to be content
iwith journalistic sketches of the "tone" of behaviour.
Some modification would, however, have been necessary
in the chapter entitled " The Expression of Ethos in Naven ".
The term " motivation " would have disappeared entirely, but
it is not quite clear what would have taken its place. I think
that ideally the chapter should have consisted of an analysis
of all the syndromes of response exhibited by the wau. These
syndromes would then have been compared and equated
with syndromes of response collected in the other contexts
of the culture, and finally the chapter would have developed
into a synthesis of affective and cognitive studies to show
that the stimuli of the naven situation were such as might
be expected to evoke these syndromes.
From this contemplation of the elaborate analysis which
ideally ought to have been done, we may turn to what actually
was done and examine more carefully the differences between
the various points of view which I adopted in the various
chapters. We have seen that schismogenesis is recognisable
in three different aspects of the culture, in ethos, in eidos
. and in sociology ; and we may profitably consider what
Epilogue 1936 277
distortions were introduced into the picture of this dia-
chronic process according to the various methods of its
delineation.
In the jfirst place, it is certain that all the representations
of schismogenesis should have had one failing in common.
They should have given us no indication that schismogenesis
is a diachronic process, a process of change. Each method
was nominally strictly synchronic and each should have given
only a synchronic "section" of schismogenesis in which the
process of change would have been seen as stationary in a
single instant of time.
Actually, the sociological view of schismogenesis, owing
to a lack of stringency in my exposition, showed us the two
forms of social fission, and these must I think be regarded
as diachronic processes. Strictly in the sociological chapter
I should have confined myself to discriminating between
peripheral and centripetal systems of integration and should
not have wandered from this classification to consider the
results of fission in the two cases. It is conceivable that even
from this strictly limited classification we might have arrived
at the statement that peripheral integration is chiefly depen-
dent upon symmetrical links between individuals, while
centripetal integration is chiefly dependent upon comple-
mentary links. But I did not grasp this at this stage, probably
because my attention was fixed too rigidly upon the major
unit, the society as a whole.
In the description of latmul ethos, however, the picture
which we drew of schismogenesis was strictly synchronic.
We saw ethological contrast as statically existing in the cul-
ture.^ Indeed from the labelling of the ethological contrast,
first as " complementary " and then in terms of Kretschmer's
typology, to the final realisation that each ethos must have a
formative effect on the other, was a very long step. The dia-
chronic aspects of schismogenesis did not come into view
until I attacked the question of the processes of moulding
of individuals into the complementary patterns, until, in fact,
^ The analysis of the schismogenic processes in initiation was a late
insertion into the description of ethos and was written after I had dis-
criminated the two types of schismogenesis.
278 Epilogue 1936
I left ethology and began to think in terms of developmental
psychology.
The view of schismogenesis provided by the sketch of
latmul eidos v^^as equally limited in its scope and I think it
unlikely that I should ever, from this aspect alone, have
described " direct " and " diagonal " dualism in terms of com-
plementary and symmetrical patterns of relationship. Here
the difficulty in the way of a clear phrasing of the matter was
due not merely to the lack of diachronic perspective but also
to two other circumstances : first, I had already attached labels
to the two forms of dualism and it would have been difficult
to get away from the implications of these labels ; and secondly,
I had realised that it was immaterial to the dualism whether
the units of a given pair were identified or discriminated and
this (illogically) would have prevented me from inspecting
the patterning of the relationships.
Thus each of our separate methods involves distortions and
gives but a partial view of the phenomena, but I do not think
that for this reason the methods should be discarded. Against
the incompleteness of each isolated aspect of the phenomena,
we may set the increased simplicity which such isolation
provides and the advantages of being able to state
our problems and generalisations in such clear terms that
we can at once look for the relevant facts. Moreover, it may
be remembered that the architect who draws first a plan and
after that an elevation of a building is not thereby prevented
from finally drawing a picture of the building in perspective.
After we have looked at our sketches of isolated aspects of
the culture, it will still be possible to go on to a synthesis
of these aspects, a synthesis which will involve its own types
of distortion but which will be the more complete because
in collecting our facts we shall have been guided by several
diff"erent types of relevance.
Finally, it remains for me to state what value I attach to
the facts, the theories, and the methods, which I have put
forward. It is clear that I have contributed but little to our
store of anthropological facts and that the information about
latmul culture which I have used in the various chapters does
no more than illustrate my methods. Even for purposes of
Epilogue 1936 279
illustration my supply of facts is meagre, and I certainly
cannot claim that my facts have demonstrated the truth of
any theory.
This would be a serious confession of weakness, and indeed
the book would have no value, were it not for another short-
coming which in a sense cancels out the first. To have put
forward, unsupported by a solid backing of fact, theories and
hypotheses which were new, would have been criminal, but
it so happens that none of my theories is in any sense new
or strange. They are all to some extent platitudes, which
novelists, philosophers, religious leaders, lawyers, the man in
the street, and even anthropologists, have reiterated in various
forms probably since language was invented. Structure,
ethos, and the rest are not new ideas or new theories: they
are only new labels for old ways of thought, and indeed only
two of my abstractions — eidos and schismogenesis — can claim
the distinction of receiving even new labels.
I am aware that there are dangers inherent in the use of
labels, and that these little pieces of paper are only too liable
to hide the things to which they are attached. But though
labels must always be used with caution, they are useful
things, and the whole of science depends on them. In this
case, their use has been to help me to disentangle old ideas
and to enable me to think in terms of one aspect of culture
at a time instead of jumbling all the aspects together. Our
unscientific knowledge of the diverse facets of human nature
is prodigious, and only when this knowledge has been set in
a scientific framework shall we be able to hope for new ideas
and theories.
CHAPTER XVII
Epilogue 1958
THERE is a well-known story about the philosopher
Whitehead. His former pupil and famous collaborator,
Bertrand Russell, came to visit Harvard and lectured in
the large auditorium on quantum theory, always a difficult sub-
ject, and at that time a comparatively novel theory. Russell
labored to make the matter intelligible to the distinguished
audience, many of whom were unversed in the ideas of mathe-
matical physics. When he sat down, Whitehead rose as chair-
man to thank the speaker. He congratulated Russell on his
brilliant exposition "and especially on leaving . . . unob-
scured . . . the vast darkness of the subject."
All science is an attempt to cover with explanatory de-
vices—and thereby to obscure— the vast darkness of the sub-
ject. It is a game in which the scientist uses his explanatory
principles according to certain rules to see if these principles
can be stretched to cover the vast darkness. But the rules of the
stretching are rigorous, and the purpose of the whole operation
is really to discover what parts of the darkness still remain,
uncovered by explanation.
But this game has also a deeper, more philosophic purpose:
to learn something about the very nature of explanation, to
make clear some part of that most obscure matter— the process
of knowing.
In the twenty-one years that have elapsed since the writing
of this book, epistemology— that science or philosophy which
has for subject matter the phenomena which we call knowl-
edge and explanation— has undergone an almost total change.
Preparing the book for repubhcation in 1957 has been a voyage
of discovery backwards into a period when the newer ways of
thought were only dimly foreshadowed.
Naven was a study of the nature pf explanation. The book
contains of course details about latmul life and culture, but it
is not primarily an ethnographic study, a retailing of data for
Epilogue 1958 28 1
later synthesis by other scientists. Rather, it is an attempt at
synthesis, a study of the ways in which data can be fitted to-
gether, and the fitting together of data is what I mean by
"explanation."
The book is clumsy and awkward, in parts almost unread-
able. For this reason: that, when I wrote it, I was trying not
only to explain by fitting data together but also to use this
explanatory process as an example within which the princi-
ples of explanation could be seen and studied.
The book is a weaving of three levels of abstraction. At the
most concrete level there are ethnographic data. More ab-
stract is the tentative arranging of data to give various pictures
of the culture, and still more abstract is the self-conscious dis-
cussion of the procedures by which the pieces of the jigsaw
puzzle are put together. The final climax of the book is the
discovery, described in the epilogue— and achieved only a few
days before the book went to press— of what looks Hke a truism
today: that ethos, eidos, sociology, economics, cultural struc-
ture, social structure, and all the rest of these words refer only
to scientists' ways of putting the jigsaw puzzle together.
These theoretical concepts have an order of objective real-
ity. They are really descriptions of processes of knowing,
adopted by scientists, but to suggest that "ethos" or "social
structure" has more reality than this is to commit Whitehead's
fallacy of misplaced concreteness. The trap or illusion— like
so many others— disappears when correct logical typing is
achieved. If "ethos," "social structure," "economics," etc., are
words in that language which describes how scientists arrange
data, then these words cannot be used to "explain" phenomena,
nor can there be any "ethological" or "economic" categories of
phenomena. People can be influenced, of course, by economic
theories or by economic fallacies— or by hunger— but they can-
not possibly be influenced by "economics." "Economics" is a
class of explanations, not itself an explanation of anything.
Once the fallacy has been detected, the way is open for
growth of an entirely new science— which has in fact already
become basic to modern thought. This new science has as yet
no satisfactory name. A part of it is included within what is
now called communications theory, a part of it is in cyber-
282 Epilogue 1958
netics, a part of it in mathematical logic. The whole is still
unnamed and imperfectly envisioned. It is a new structuring
of the balance between Nominahsm and Reahsm, a new set
of conceptual frames and problems, replacing the premises and
problems set by Plato and Aristotle.
One purpose, then, of the present essay is to relate the book
to these new ways of thought which were dimly foreshadowed
in it. A second more specific purpose is to relate the book to
current thinking in the field of psychiatry. While the climate
of epistemological thought has been changing and evolving
throughout the world, the thinking of the author has under'
gone changes, precipitated especially by contact with some of
the problems of psychiatry. I have had the task of teaching
cultural anthropology to psychiatric residents, and have had to
face such problems as are raised by the comparison between
the variety of cultures and those hazily defined "clinical en-
tities," the mental diseases which have their roots in traumatic
experience.
This narrower purpose, to make the book relevant to psy-
chiatry, is easier to achieve than the wider one of placing it in
the current epistemological scene. And therefore I will at-
tempt the psychiatric problem first, with this reminder to the
reader— that the problems of psychiatry are after all shot
through with epistemological difficulties.
Naven was written almost without benefit of Freud. One
or two reviewers even complained about this, but I think that
the circumstance was fortunate. My psychiatric taste and
judgment were at that time defective, and probably a greater
contact with the Freudian ideas would only have led me to
misuse and misunderstand them. I would have indulged in an
orgy of interpreting symbols, and this would have distracted
me from the more important problems of interpersonal and
intergroup process. As it was, I did not even notice that the
crocodile jaw which is the gate to the initiatory enclosure is
called in latmul tshuwi iamfoa— literally, "clitoris gate." This
piece of data would really only confirm what is already implied
when the male initiators are identified as "mothers" of the
novices, but still the temptation to analyze the symbolism could
have interrupted the analysis of the relationship.
Epilogue 1958 283
But the fascination of symbol analysis is not the only pitfall
in psychiatric theory. Perhaps even more serious are the dis-
tractions of psychological typology. One of the great errors in
anthropology has been the naive attempt to use psychiatric
ideas and labels to explain cultural diflFerence, and certainly
the weakest part of the book is that chapter in which I tried
to describe ethological contrast in terms of Kretschmer's
typology.
No doubt more modern approaches to the problem of ty-
pology, such as Sheldon's work on somatotypes, are a great
improvement upon the crudely dualistic system of Kretschmer.
But this is not the point which concerns me. If Sheldon's
typology had been available to me in 1935, I would have used
it in preference to that of Kretschmer, but I would still have
been wrong. As I see it today, these typologies, whether in
cultural anthropology or in psychiatry, are at best heuristic
fallacies, culs de sac, whose only usefulness is to demonstrate
the need for a fresh start. Fortunately, I separated my dal-
liance with psychiatric typology into a single chapter; if this
were not so, I would hardly permit the republication today.
But still the status of typology is undefined and crucial.
Psychiatrists still hanker after classifications of mental disease,
biologists still hanker for genera and species; and physiologists
still hanker after a classification of human individuals which
shall show a coincidence between classes defined by behavioral
criteria and classes defined by anatomy. Lastly, be it con-
fessed, I myself hanker for a classification, a typology, of the
processes of interaction as it occurs either between persons or
between groups.
This is a region in which problems of epistemology become
crucial for the whole biological field, including within that
field both the latmul culture and psychiatric diagnosis. There
is an area of comparable uncertainty in the whole theory of
evolution: Do species have real existence or are they only a
device of description? How are we to resolve the old contro-
versies between continuity and discontinuity? Or how shall
we reconcile the contrast which recurs again and again in
nature between continuity of change and discontinuity of the
classes which result from change?
284 Epilogue 1958
It seems to me, today, that there is a partial answer to these
problems in the processes of schismogenesis which are ana-
lyzed in this book, but this partial answer could hardly have
beeen extracted from that analysis when the book was written.
These further steps had to wait upon other advances, such as
the expansion of learning theory, the development of cyber-
netics, the apphcation of Russell's Theory of Logical Types to
communications theory, and Ashby's formal analysis of those
orders of event which must lead to parametric change in pre-
viously steady-state systems.
A discussion of the relationship between schismogenesis
and these more modern developments of theory is therefore a
first step toward a new synthesis. In this discussion I shall
assume that formal analogies exist between the problems of
change in all fields of biological science.
The process of schismogenesis, as described in the book, is
an example of progressive or directional change. And a first
problem in evolution is that of direction. The conventional
stochastic view of mutation assumes that change will be ran-
dom, and that direction is only imposed upon evolutionary
change by some phenomenon hke natural selection. Whether
such a description is sufiicient to explain the phenomenon of
orthogenesis— the long process of continuous directional
change shown by the fossil record in ammonites, sea urchins,
horses, asses, titanotheres, etc.— is very doubtful. An alterna-
tive or supplementary explanation is probably necessary. Of
these the most obvious is climatic or other progressive change
in the environment, and this type of explanation may be appro-
priate for some of the orthogenic sequences. More interesting
is the possibility that the progressive environmental change
might occur in the biological environment of the species con-
cerned, and this raises questions of a new order. Marine organ-
isms like ammonites or sea urchins can hardly be supposed to
have much efifect upon the weather, but a change in the am-
monites might affect their biological environment. After all,
the most important elements in the environment of an indi-
vidual organism are ( a ) other individuals of the same species
and (b) plants and animals of other species with which the
given individual is in intense interactive relationship. The
Epilogue 1958 285
survival value of a given characteristic is likely to depend in
part upon the degree to which this characteristic is shared by
other members of the species; and, vis-a-vis other species, there
must exist relationships— e.g., between predator and prey—
which are comparable to those evolving interactive systems of
attack and defense so grievously familiar in armaments races
at the international level.
These are systems which begin to be closely comparable to
the phenomena of schismogenesis with which this book is con-
cerned. In the theory of schismogenesis, however (and in
armaments races ) , an additional factor to account for the di-
rectedness of change is assumed. The direction toward more
intense rivalry in the case of symmetrical schismogenesis, or
toward increasing differentiation of role in complementary
schismogenesis, is assumed to depend upon phenomena of
learning. This aspect of the matter is not discussed in the book,
but the whole theory rests upon certain ideas about processes
of character formation— ideas which are also latent in most psy-
chiatric theory. These ideas may be briefly summarized.
The order of learning to which I refer is that which Harlow
has called "set-learning," and which I myself have called "deu-
tero-learning." I assume that in any learning experiment—
e.g., of the Pavlovian or the Instrumental Reward type— there
occurs not only that learning in which the experimenter is
usually interested, namely, the increased frequency of the con-
ditioned response in the experimental context, but also a more
abstract or higher order of learning, in which the experimental
subject improves his ability to deal with contexts of a given
type. The subject comes to act more and more as if contexts
of this type were expectable in his universe. For example, the
deutero-learning of the animal subjected to a sequence of Pav-
lovian experiences will presumably be a process of character
formation whereby he comes to Hve as if in a universe where
premonitory signs of later reinforcements (or unconditioned
stimuli ) can be detected but nothing can be done to precipi-
tate or prevent the occurrence of the reinforcements. In a
word, the animal will acquire a species of "fatalism." In con-
trast, we may expect the subject of repeated Instrumental
Reward experiments to deutero-learn a character structure
286 Epilogue 1958
that will enable him to live as if in a universe in which he can
control the occurrence of reinforcements.
Now, all those psychiatric theories which invoke the past
experience of the individual as an explanatory device depend
necessarily upon some such theory of high-order learning, or
learning to learn. When the patient tells the therapist that, in
her childhood, she learned to operate a typewriter, this is of
no particular interest to him unless he happens to be a voca-
tional counselor as well as therapist. But when she starts to
tell him about the context in which she learned this skill, how
her aunt taught her and rewarded her or punished her or with-
held reward and punishment, then the psychiatrist begins to be
interested; because what the patient learned from formal
characteristics or patterns of the contexts of learning is the
clue to her present habits, her "character," her manner of inter-
preting and participating in the interaction between herself
and others.
This type of theory which underHes so much of psychiatry
is also fundamental to the idea of schismogenesis. It is as-
sumed that the individual in a symmetrical relationship with
another will tend, perhaps unconsciously, to form the habit of
acting as if he expected symmetry in further encounters with
that other, and perhaps, even more widely, in future encoun-
ters with all other individuals.
The ground is thus laid for progressive change. As a given
individual learns patterns of symmetrical behavior he not only
comes to expect this type of behavior in others, but also acts in
such a way that others will experience those contexts in which
they in turn will learn symmetrical behavior. We have here a
case in which change in the individual aflFects the environment
of others in a way which will cause a similar change in them.
This will act back upon the initial individual to produce fur-
ther change in him in the same direction.
But this picture of schismogenesis cannot be true of latmul
society as I observed it. Evidently, what has been achieved is
only a one-sided picture of processes which, if permitted,
would lead either in the direction of excessive rivalry between
symmetrical pairs or groups of individuals or in the direction of
excessive diSerentiation between complementary pairs. At a
Epilogue 1958 287
certain point, if these were the only processes involved, the
society would explode. Of this diflBculty I was already aware
when I wrote the book, and I made an effort to account for the
presumed dynamic equilibrium of the system by pointing out
that the symmetrical and complementary processes are in some
sense opposites of each other (page 193) so that the culture
containing both of these processes might conceivably balance
them one against the other. This, however, was at best an
unsatisfactory explanation, since it assumed that two variables
will, by coincidence, have equal and opposite values; but it is
obviously improbable that the two processes will balance each
other unless some functional relationship obtains between
them. In the so-called dynamic equilibrium of chemical re-
actions, the rate of change in one direction is a function of the
concentration of the products of the inverse change, and re-
ciprocally. But I was not able to see any such functional de-
pendence between the two schismogenic processes and had to
leave the matter there when the book was written.
The problem became totally changed with the growth of
cybernetic theory. It was my privilege to be a member of the
Macy Conference which met periodically in the years follow-
ing the end of World War II. In our earlier meetings the word
"cybernetics" was still uncoined, and the group was gathered
to consider the implications for biology and other sciences of
what we then called "feed-back." It was immediately evident
that the whole problem of purpose and adaptation— the teleo-
logical problem in the widest sense— had to be reconsidered.
The problems had been posed by the Greek philosophers, and
the only solution they had been able to offer was what looked
like a mystical idea: that the end of a process could be re-
garded as a "purpose," and that this end or purpose could be
invoked as an explanation of the process which preceded it.
And this notion, as is well known, was closely connected with
the problem of the real (i.e., transcendent rather than imma-
nent) nature of forms and patterns. The formal study of feed-
back systems immediately changed all this. Now, we had
mechanical models of causal circuits which would (if the
parameters of the system were appropriate ) seek equilibria or
steady states. But Naven had been written with a rigorous
288 Epilogue 1958
taboo on teleological explanation: the end could never be in-
voked as an explanation of the process.
The idea of negative feedback was not new; it had been
used by Clark Maxwell in his analysis of the steam engine with
a governor, and by biologists such as Claude Bernard and
Cannon in the explanation of physiological homeostasis. But
the power of the idea was unrecognized. What happened at
the Macy meetings was an exploration of the enormous scope
of these ideas in the explanation of biological and social phe-
nomena.
The ideas themselves are extremely simple. All that is re-
quired is that we ask not about the characteristics of lineal
chains of cause and effect but about the characteristics of sys-
tems in which the chains of cause and effect are circular or
more complex than circular. If, for example, we consider a
circular system containing elements A, B, C, and D— so related
that an activity of A affects an activity of B, B affects C, C af-
fects D, and D has an effect back upon A— we find that such a
system has properties totally different from anything which
can occur in lineal chains.
Such circular causal systems must in the nature of the case
either seek a steady state or undergo progressive exponential
change; and this change will be limited either by the energy
resources of the system, or by some external restraint, or by a
breakdown of the system as such.
The steam engine with the governor illustrates the type of
circuit which may seek a steady state. Here the circuit is so
constructed that the faster the piston moves the faster the
governor spins; and the faster the governor spins the wider
the divergence of its weighted arms; and the wider the diver-
gences of these arms the less the power supply. But this in
turn affects the activity of the piston. The self -corrective char-
acteristic of the circuit as a whole depends upon there being
within the circuit at least one link such that the more there is
of something, the less there will be of something else. In such
cases the system may be self-corrective, either seeking a steady
rate of operation or oscillating about such a steady rate.
In contrast, a steam engine with a governor so constructed
that a wider divergence of the arms of the governor will in-
Epilogue 1958 289
crease the supply of steam to the cyhnder aflFords an instance
of what the engineers would call "runaway." The feedback is
"positive," and the system will operate faster and faster, in-
creasing its speed exponentially to the limit of the available
supply of steam or to the point at which the flywheel or some
other part must break.
For the present purposes it is not necessary to go into the
mathematics of such systems except to notice that the charac-
teristics of any such system will depend upon timing. Will the
corrective event or message reach the point at which it is effec-
tive at an appropriate moment and will the effect be sufficient?
Or will the corrective action be excessive? Or too httle? Or
too late?
Substituting the notion of seff-correction for the idea of
purpose or adaptation defined a new approach to the problems
of the latmul culture. Schismogenesis appeared to promote
progressive change, and the problem was why this progressive
change did not lead to a destruction of the culture as such.
With self-corrective causal circuits as a conceptual model, it
was now natural to ask whether there might exist, in this cul-
ture, functional connections such that appropriate controlling
factors would be brought into play by increased schismo-
genic tension. It was not good enough to say that symmetrical
schismogenesis happened by coincidence to balance the
complementary. It was now necessary to ask, is there any
communicational pathway such that an increase in sym-
metrical schismogenesis will bring about an increase in the
corrective complementary phenomena? Could the system be
circular and self-corrective?
The answer was immediately evident ( page 8 ) . The naven
ceremonial, which is an exaggerated caricature of a comple-
mentary sexual relationship between wau and laua, is in fact
set off by overweening symmetrical behavior. When laua
boasts in the presence of wau, the latter has recourse to naven
behavior. Perhaps in the initial description of the contexts for
naven it would have been better to describe this as the primary
context, and to see laua's achievements in headhunting, fishing,
etc., as particular examples of an achieved ambition or vertical
mobility in laua which place him in some sort of symmetrical
290 Epilogue 1958
relationship with wau. But the latmul do not think of the mat-
ter this way. If you ask a latmul about the contexts for naven,
he will first enumerate laua's achievements and only as an
afterthought mention the less formal ( but perhaps more pro-
foundly significant ) contexts in which wau uses naven to con-
trol that breach of good manners of which laua is guilty when
he presumes to be in a symmetrical relationship with wau.
Indeed, it was only on a later visit to latmul that I discovered
that when laua is a baby and is being held in waus lap, if the
baby urinates, the wau will threaten naven.
It is also interesting that this link between symmetrical and
complementary behavior is doubly inverted. The laua makes
the symmetrical gesture and wau responds not by overbearing
complementary dominance but by the reverse of this— exag-
gerated submission. Or should we say the reverse of this re-
verse? Waus behavior is a caricature of submission?
The sociological functions of this self-corrective circuit
cannot be so easily demonstrated. The questions at issue are
whether excessive symmetrical rivalry between clans will in
fact increase the frequency with which lauas act symmetrically
yls-a^vis their waus, and whether the resulting increase in fre-
quency of naven will tend to stabilize the society. This could
only be demonstrated by statistical study and appropriate
measurement, which would be extremely diflBcult. There is,
however, a good case for expecting such effects inasmuch as
the wau is usually of a different clan from laua. In any instance
of intense symmetrical rivalry between two clans we may ex-
pect an increased probability of symmetrical insult between
members, and when the members of the pair happen to be
related as laua and wau, we must expect a triggering of the
complementary rituals which will function toward mending
the threatened split in society.
But if there exists a functional relationship such that excess
of symmetrical rivahy will trigger complementary rituals, then
we should expect to find also the converse phenomenon. In-
deed, it is not clear that the society could maintain its steady
state without an excess of complementary schismogenesis
touching off some degree of symmetrical rivalry.
This too can be demonstrated with ethnographic data:
Epilogue 1958 29 1
( 1 ) In the village of Tambunum, when two little boys ex-
hibit what looks to their age mates like homosexual behavior,
the others put sticks in their hands and make the two stand up
against each other and "fight." Indeed, any suggestion of pas-
sive male homosexuality is exceedingly insulting in latmul
culture and leads to symmetrical brawling.
(2) As discussed in the book, while the wau's transvesti-
cism is a caricature of the female role, the transvesticism of
father's sister and elder brother's wife is a proud exhibition
of masculinity. It looks as though these women are stating a
symmetrical rivalry vis-a-vis the men, compensating for their
normally complementary role. It is perhaps significant that
they do this at a time when a man, the wau, is stating his com-
plementarity vis-a-vis laua.
( 3 ) The extreme complementarity of relationship between
initiators and novices is always counterbalanced by extreme
rivalry between initiatory groups. Here again complementary
behavior in some way sets the scene for symmetrical rivalry.
Again we may ask the sociological question, whether these
changes from complementarity to symmetry can be regarded
as efiFective in the prevention of social disintegration; and,
again, to investigate this question with the available examples
is diflScult. There is, however, another aspect of the matter
which justifies us in believing that this oscillation between the
symmetrical and the complementary is likely to be of deep
importance to the social structure. What has been demon-
strated from the data is that latmul individuals recurrently
experience and participate in such shifts. From this we may
reasonably expect that these individuals learn, besides the
symmetrical and the complementary patterns, to expect and
exhibit certain sequential relations between the symmetrical
and the complementary. Not only must we think of a social
network changing from moment to moment and impinging
upon the individuals, so that processes tending toward dis-
integration will be corrected by activation of other processes
tending in an opposite direction, but also we have to remem-
ber that the component individuals of that network are them-
selves being trained to introduce this type of corrective change
in their dealings with each other. In one case we are equating
2Q2 Epilogue 1958
the individuals with the A, B, C, and D of a cybernetic dia-
gram; and in the other, noting that A, B, C, etc., are themselves
so structured that the input-output characteristics of each will
show appropriate self-corrective characteristics.
It is this fact— that the patterns of society as a major entity
can by learning be introjected or conceptualized by the partici-
pant individuals— that makes anthropology and indeed the
whole of behavioral science pecuharly difficult. The scientist
is not the only human being in the picture. His subjects also
are capable of all sorts of learning and conceptualization and
even, like the scientist, they are capable of errors of conceptual-
ization. This circumstance, however, leads us into a further set
of questions posed by communications theory, namely, those
questions which concern the orders of event which will trigger
corrective action, and the order of that action ( considered as a
message) when it occurs.
Here I use the word "order" in a technical sense closely re-
sembling the sense in which the word "type" is used in Rus-
sell's Theory of Logical Types. This may be illustrated by the
following example. A house with a thermostatically controlled
heating system is a simple self-corrective circuit of the sort
discussed above. A thermometer appropriately placed in the
house is linked into the system to control a switch in such a
way that when the temperature goes above a certain critical
level the furnace is switched oflF. Similarly, when the tempera-
ture falls below a certain level the furnace is switched on. But
the system is also governed by another circumstance, namely,
the setting of the critical temperatures. By changing the posi-
tion of a dial the owner of the house can alter the character-
istics of the system as a whole by changing the critical tem-
peratures at which the furnace will be turned on and shut off.
Following Ashby, I will reserve the word "variables" for those
measurable circumstances which change from moment to mo-
ment as the house oscillates around some steady temperature,
and shall reserve the word "parameters" for those character-
istics of the system which are changed for example when the
householder intervenes and changes the setting of the thermo-
stat. I shall speak of the latter change as of higher order than
changes in the variables.
Epilogue 1958 293
The word "order" is in fact here used in a sense comparable
to that in which it was used earher in this essay to define orders
of learning. We deal as before with meta relationships be-
tween messages. Any two orders of learning are related so that
the learning of one order is a learning about the other, and
similarly in the case of the house thermostat the message which
the householder puts into the system by changing the setting
is about how the system shall respond to messages of lower
order emanating from the thermometer. We are here at a point
where both learning theory and the theory of cybernetic sys-
tems come within the realm of Russell's Theory of Types.
Russell's central notion is the truism that a class cannot be
a member of itself. The class of elephants has not got a trunk
and is not an elephant. This truism must evidently apply with
equal force when the members of the class are not things but
names or signals. The class of commands is not itself a com-
mand and cannot tell you what to do.
Corresponding to this hierarchy of names, classes, and
classes of classes, there is also a hierarchy of propositions and
messages, and within this latter hierarchy the Russellian dis-
continuity between types must also obtain. We speak of mes-
sages, of meta-messages, and meta-meta-messages; and what
I have called deutero-leaming I might appropriately have
called meta-learning.
But the matter becomes more diflBcult because, for ex-
ample, while the class of commands is not itself a command,
it is possible and even usual to give commands in a meta-lan-
guage. If "Shut the door" is a command, then "Listen to my
orders" is a meta-command. The military phrase, "That is an
order," is an attempt to enforce a given command by appeal to
a premise of higher logical type.
Russell's rule would indicate that as we should not classify
the class of elephants among its members, so also we should
not classify "Listen to my orders" among such commands as
"Shut the door." But, being human, we shall continue to do so
and shall inevitably be liable to certain sorts of confusion, as
Russell predicts.
Returning to the theme which I am trying to elucidate— the
general problem of the continuity of process and the discon-
294 Epilogue 1958
tinuity of the products of process— I will now consider how we
might classify the answers to this general problem. Of neces-
sity, the answers will be in the most general terms, but still it
is of some value to present an ordering of thoughts about
change as it must, a priori, occur in all systems or entities
which either learn or evolve/
First, it is necessary again to stress the distinction between
change in the variables (which is, by definition, within the
terms of the given system) and change in the parameters, i.e.,
change in the very terms which define the system— remember-
ing always that it is the observer who does the defining. It is
the observer who creates messages (i.e., science) about the
system which he is studying, and it is these messages that are
of necessity in some language or other and must therefore have
order: they must be of some or other Logical Type or of some
combination of Types.
The scientist's task is only to be a good scientist, that is, to
create his description of the system out of messages of such
logical typology ( or so interrelated in their typology ) as may
be appropriate to the particular system. Whether Russell's
Types "exist" in the systems which the scientist studies is a
philosophic question beyond the scientist's scope— perhaps
even an unreal question. For the scientist, it suffices to note
that logical typing is an inevitable ingredient in the relation-
ship between any describer and any system to be described.
What I am proposing is that the scientist should accept and
use this phenomenon, which is, in any case, inevitable. His
science— the aggregate of his messages about the system which
he is describing— will be so constructed that it could be
mapped in some more or less complex diagram of logical types.
As I imagine it, each message of the description would have its
1 This is not the place to discuss the controversies which have raged
over the relation between learning and evolutionary process. Suffice it
that two contrasting schools of thought are in agreement on a funda-
mental analogy between the two genera of process. On the one hand,
there are those who, following Samuel Butler, argue that evolutionary
change is a sort of learning; on the other hand, there are those who argue
that learning is a sort of evolutionary change. Notable among the latter
are Ashby and Mosteller, whose models of learning involve stochastic
concepts closely comparable to the concepts of natural selection and ran-
dom mutation.
Epilogue 1958 295
location on this map, and the topological relationship between
various locations would represent the typological relationship
between messages. It is of the nature of all communication,
as we know it, that some such mapping be possible.
But in describing a given system, the scientist makes many
choices. He chooses his words, and he decides which parts of
the system he will describe first; he even decides into what
parts he will divide the system in order to describe it. These
decisions will affect the description as a whole in the sense that
they will affect the map upon which the typological relations
between the elementary messages of the description are repre-
sented. Two equally sufficient descriptions of the same system
could conceivably be represented by utterly different map-
pings. In such a case, is there any criterion by which it would
be possible for the scientist to choose one description and dis-
card the other?
Evidently an answer to this question would become avail-
able if scientists would use, as well as accept, the phenomena
of logical typing. They are already scrupulous about the pre-
cise coding of their messages and insist upon singularity of
referent for every symbol used. Ambiguity at this simpler level
is abhorred and is avoided by rigorous rules for the translation
of observation into description. But this rigor of coding could
also be useful on a more abstract level. The typological rela-
tions between the messages of a description could also be
used, subject to rules of coding, to represent relations within
the system to be described.
After all, any modification of the signal or change in rela-
tionship between modifications of the signal can be made to
carry a message; and by the same token any change in relation-
ship between messages can itself carry a message. There is
then no inherent reason why the various species of meta rela-
tionship between the messages of our description should not
be used as symbols whose referents would be relationships
within the system to be described.
Indeed, something like this technique of description is al-
ready followed in certain fields, notably in the equations of
motion. Equations of first order (in x) denote uniform veloc-
ity; equations of second order ( in x^ ) imply acceleration; equa-
2q6 Epilogue 1958
tions of third order ( in x^ ) imply a change in acceleration; and
so on. There is moreover an analogy between this hierarchy
of equations and the hierarchy of Logical Types: a statement
of acceleration is vieta to a statement of velocity. The f amihar
Rule of Dimensions is to physical quantities what the Theory
of Logical Types is to classes and propositions.
I am suggesting that some technique of this sort might be
used in describing change in those systems which either learn
or evolve, and further that if such a technique were adopted,
there would then be a natural basis upon which to classify
answers to the problems of change in these systems: the an-
swers would fall into classes according to the typology of the
messages which they contain. And this classification of answers
should coincide both with a classification of systems according
to their typological complexity and with a classification of
changes according to their orders.
In illustration of this, it is now possible to go back over the
whole body of description and argument contained in this
book and to dissect it on a generaHzed typological scale or
map.
The book starts with two descriptions of latmul culture,
in each of which relatively concrete observations of behavior
are used to validate generaHzations. The "structural" descrip-
tion leads to and validates eidological generalization, and a
corpus of ethological generalization is validated by observa-
tions of expression of affect.
In the 1936 Epilogue, it is demonstrated that ethos and
eidos are only alternative ways of arranging data or alternative
"aspects" of the data. This, I believe, is another way of saying
that these generalizations are of the same order or Russellian
type. I needed, for obscure reasons, to use two sorts of descrip-
tion, but the presence of these two descriptions does not de-
note that the system described actually has a complexity of
this dual nature.
One significant duality has however already been men-
tioned in this brief survey, namely, the duality between obser-
vations of behavior and generahzation, and this duality, I
believe, here reflects a special complexity in the system: the
dual fact of learning and learning to learn. A step in Rus-
Epilogue 1958 297
sellian typology inherent in the system is represented by a cor-
responding step in the description.
A second typological contrast in the description, which I
believe represents a real contrast in the system described, is
that between ethos-eidos on the one hand and sociology on
the other. Here, however, the matter is less clear. Insofar as
the total society is represented in native thought and communi-
cation, clearly this representation is of higher type than the
representations of persons, actions, and so on. It would follow
that a segment of the description should be devoted to this
entity, and that the delimiting of this segment from the rest of
the description would represent a real typological contrast
within the system described. But, as the matter is presented
in the book, the distinctions are not perfectly clear, and the
idea of sociology as a science dealing with the adaptation and
survival of societies is mixed up with the concept "society" as
a Gestalt in native thought and communication.
It is appropriate next to ask about the concept "schismo-
genesis." Does the isolating and naming of this phenomenon
represent an extra order of complexity in the system?
Here the answer is clearly affirmative. The concept "schis-
mogenesis" is an implicit recognition that the system contains
an extra order of complexity due to the combination of learn-
ing vdth the interaction of persons. The schismogenic unit is
a two-person subsystem. This subsystem contains the poten-
tialities of a cybernetic circuit which might go into progressive
change; it cannot, therefore, be conceptually ignored and must
be described in a language of higher type than any language
used to describe individual behavior— the latter category of
phenomena being only the events in one or another arc of the
schismogenic subsystem.
It is necessary, next, to note that the original description
contained a major error in its typological mapping. The de-
scription is presented as "synchronic,"^ which is more modern
terminology may be translated as "excluding irreversible
1 There is also a second sense in which anthropologists use the word
"synchronic": to describe a study of cultiire which ignores progressive
change by considering only a brief (or infinitesimal) span of time. In
this usage, a synchronic description differs from a diachronic ahnost as
differential calculus differs from integral calculus.
298 Epilogue 1958
change." The basic assumption of the description was that
the system described was in a steady state, such that all
changes within it could be regarded as changes in variables
and not in the parameters. In self-justification, I may claim
that I stated that there must exist factors which would control
the runaways of schismogenesis— but still I overlooked what is
crucial from the present point of view: that the system must
contain still larger circuits which would operate correctively
upon the schismogeneses. In omitting to make this deduc-
tion, I falsified the whole logical typology of the description
by not depicting its highest level. This error is corrected in the
earlier part of the present Epilogue.
It is thus possible, at least crudely, to examine the scientific
description of a system and to relate the logical typology of the
description to the circuit structure of the system described.
The next step is to consider descriptions of change preparatory
to asking how a classification of such descriptions may be re-
lated to problems of phenomenal discontinuity.
From what has already been said, it is clear that we must
expect statements about change to be always in a language
one degree more abstract than the language which would
suffice to describe the steady state. As statements about ac-
celeration must always be of higher logical type than state-
ments about velocity, so also statements about cultural change
must be of higher type than synchronic statements about cul-
ture. This rule will apply throughout the field of learning and
evolution. The language for the description of character
change must always be of higher type than the description of
character; the language to describe psychiatric etiology or psy-
chotherapy, both of which impute change, must always be
more abstract than the language of diagnosis. And so on.
But this is only another way of saying that the language
appropriate for describing change in a given system is that
language which would also be appropriate for describing the
top typological level in a steady state system having one more
degree of complexity in its circuits. If the original description
of latmul culture, as put forward in the body of the book, had
been a sufficient and correct description of a steady state, then
the language of the additional statements about the larger cir-
Epilogue 1958 299
cuits would have been precisely that language appropriate to
describe change or disturbance in that steady state.
When the scientist is at a loss to find an appropriate lan-
guage for the description of change in some system which he
is studying, he will do well to imagine a system one degree
more complex and to borrow from the more complex system
a language appropriate for his description of change in the
simpler.
Finally it becomes possible to attempt a crude listing of
types of change and to relate the items of this listing to the
general problem from which I started— that of the contrast
between continuity of process and discontinuity of the prod-
ucts of process.
Take for a starting point a system S of which we have a
description with given complexity C, and observe that the
absolute value of C is for present purposes irrelevant. We are
concerned with the problem of change and not at all with abso-
lute values.
Consider now events and processes within S. These may
be classified according to the orders of statement which must
be made in the description of S in order to represent them. The
crucial question which must be asked about any event or proc-
ess within S is: Can this event or process be included within a
description of S as a steady state having complexity C? If it
can be so included, all is well and we are not dealing with any
change that will alter the parameters of the system.
The more interesting case, however, is that in which events
or processes are noted in S which cannot be comprised within
the steady-state description of complexity C. We then face
the necessity of adding some sort of meta description to be
chosen according to the type of disturbance which we observe.
Three types of such disturbance may be listed: (a) Pro-
gressive change, like schismogenesis, which takes place in the
values of relatively superficial and fast changing variables.
This, if unchecked, must always disrupt the parameters of the
system. ( b ) Progressive change which, as Ashby has pointed
out, must always occur in the more stable variables (or pa-
rameters? ) when certain of the more superficial variables are
controlled. This must happen whenever limitation is imposed
^00 Epilogue 1958
upon those superficial and fast-changing variables which pre-
viously were essential Hnks in some self -corrective circuit. An
acrobat must always lose his balance if he is unable to make
changes in the angle between his body and his balancing pole.
In either of these cases, the scientist is driven to add to his
description of S statements of higher order than those included
within the previous description C.
( c ) Lastly there is the case of "random" events occurring
within the system S. These become especially interesting
when a degree of randomness is introduced into the very sig-
nals upon which the system depends for its self-corrective
characteristics. The stochastic theories of learning and the
mutation-natural-selection theory of evolution both invoke
phenomena of this kind as basis for description or explanation
of change. The stochastic theories of learning assume random
changes of some kind in the neurological net, while the muta-
tion theory assumes random changes in the chromosomal ag-
gregate of messages.
In terms of the present discussion neither of these theories
is satisfactory because both leave undefined the logical typing
of the word "random." We must expect, a priori, that the ag-
gregate of messages which we call a genotype must be made
up of individual messages of very various typology, carried
either by individual genes or by constellations of genes. It is
even likely that, on the whole, more generalized and higher-
type messages are more frequently carried by constellations of
genes, while more concrete messages are in general carried by
individual genes. Of this, there is no certain knowledge, but
still it seems improbable that small "random" disturbances can
alter with equal frequency messages of whatever logical type.
W'e must ask, then: what distribution of disturbance among
the messages of various types do the proponents of these theo-
ries have in mind when they use the word "random"? These,
however, are questions more specific than the broad terms of
the present discussion and are introduced only to illustrate the
problems which are posed by the new epistemology which is
now evolving.
The problem of discontinuity now falls into place in the
sense that it is possible to classify the principal types of process
Epilogue 1958 ^01
and explanation which crystalHze around this phenomenon.
Consider still the hypothetical system, S, and the description
of this system whose complexity I am calling C. The first type
of discontinuity is that relatively trivial case in which the state
of the system at a given time is observed to contrast with its
state at some other time, but where the differences are still
such as can be subsumed within the terms of the given descrip-
tion. In such cases, the apparent discontinuity will be either
an artefact resulting from the spacing of our observations in
time, or will be due to the presence of on-off phenomena in the
communicational mechanism of the system studied.
A less trivial case is proposed in considering two similar
systems Si and So, both of them undergoing continuous changes
in their variables such that the two systems appear to be di-
verging or becoming more and more different one from the
other. Such a case becomes nontrivial when some extra factor
is involved which may prevent later convergence. But any
such factor will of course have to be represented in the de-
scription of the systems by messages of higher logical type.
The next category of discontinuity will include all those
cases which involve parametric contrast. I have considered
briefly above the types of ongoing process which must lead to
parametric disruption and have noted that these are all in-
stances in which the description of the system undergoing
change must be of higher logical type than would have been
the case in absence of such processes. This I believe to be true
even in that vast majority of instances where the parametric
disturbance leads to gross simplification of parameters after
the disruptive change. Most commonly such disruptions will-
in accordance with laws of probability— result in the "death"
of the system. In a few cases some simplified version of S may
persist, and, in still fewer cases, the parametric disruption will
lead to the creation of a new system, typologically more com-
plex than the original S.
It is this rare possibility that is perhaps most fascinating in
the whole field of learning, genetics, and evolution. But, while
in the most general terms it is possible to state with some rigor
what sort of changes are here envisaged and to see the results
of such progressive discontinuous change in, for example, the
^02 Epilogue 1958
telencephalization of the mammalian brain, it is still totally
impossible to make formal statements about the categories of
parametric disturbance which will bring about these positive
gains in complexity.
Here is the central diflBculty which results from the phe-
nomenon of logical typing. It is not, in the nature of the case,
possible to predict from a description having complexity C
what the system would look like if it had complexity C + 1-
This formal difficulty must in the end always limit the
scientific understanding of change and must at the same time
limit the possibilities of planned change— whether in the field
of genetics, education, psychotherapy, or social planning.
Certain mysteries are for formal reasons impenetrable, and
here is the vast darkness of the subject.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
W. R. Ashby. Design for a Brain. New York: Wiley, 1952.
. Introduction to Cybernetics. New York: Wiley, 1956.
G. Bateson. "Bali: The Value System of a Steady State," in M. Fortes,
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. "The Message 'This Is Play,' " in Second Conference of Group
Processes. New York: Josiah Macy Jr. Foundation, 1956. Pp. 145-
242.
G. Bateson, D. D. Jackson, J. Haley, and J. H. Weakland. "Toward a
Theory of Schizophrenia," Behavioral Science, I (1956), 251-64.
R. R. Bush and F. Mosteller. Stochastic Models for Learning. New York:
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S. Butler. Life and Habit. London: Fifield, 1878.
. Luck or Cunning. London: Fifield, 1887.
H. von Foerster, ed. Cybernetics. 5 vols. New York: Josiah Macy Jr.
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C. P. Martin. Psychology, Evolution, and Sex. Springfield, 111.: Charles
C.Thomas, 1956.
303
L. F. Richardson. "Generalized Foreign Politics," British Journal of Psy-
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J. Ruesch and G. Bateson. Communication: The Social Matrix of Psy-
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B. Russell. Introduction to Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.
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C. E. Shannon and W. Weaver. The Mathematical Theory of Communi-
cation. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1949.
C. H. Waddington. The Strategy of the Genes. London: Allen & Unwin,
1957.
H. Weyl. Philosophy of Mathematics and Natural Science. Princeton:
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A. N. Whitehead and B. Russell. Principia Mathematica. Cambridge:
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N.Wiener. Cybernetics. New York: Wiley, 1948.
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INDEX GLOSSARY OF
TECHNICAL AND NATIVE WORDS
Adaptive function. When we say of some part of a functional system
that it behaves in such and such a way in order to produce such and
such a desirable effect in the system as a whole, we are attributing
adaptive function ; and we are verging upon teleological fallacy. But
it is a cold plunge from this to realising that no cell or organ cares
two hoots about our survival. We can avoid some of the dangers of
teleology by acknowledging that undesirable effects occur not in-
frequently. We may also avoid treating the teleological theory too
seriously by saying e.g. that the father plays no part in naven because
there is no extra integration of the community to be got by further
stressing of the links between father and son. Cf. pp. 27 and 211.
Affective and cognitive. These terms have been used loosely in the body
of the book: affective to mean "pertaining to the emotions" and
cognitive to mean "pertaining to thought". The terms are re-inter-
preted more critically on p. 275.
Affective function. The effect of some detail of cultural behaviour in
satisfying or dissatisfying the emotional needs of the behaving in-
dividuals. Cf. p. 32.
agwi, islands of floating grass, which may attain considerable size and
solidity. They are formed on lakes but float down to the Sepik when
broken up. Crocodiles are said to live under them. Hence wagan
(who are crocodiles) in their shamanic jargon refer to a house as agwi.
Alternation. Cf. p. 244 et seq.
angk-au, literally "potsherds", hence ancestral spirits sjmibolised by
the old potsherds under the house. Cf. p. 45.
awan, the suffix of names given by mother's brother to sister's son. The
literal meaning of this suffix is either "mask" or "old man". Cf.
P- 43-
bandi, a novice or initiate; a young man; a member of initiatory grade
Ax 3 or Ay 3 . -bandi is a suffix on names given by wau to laua after
initiation. Cf. p. 43.
b.s. (both speaking) means that a kinship term may be used by both
sexes.
Calculating man. The individual in a community when seen from a
purely economic point of view. This phrase need make no assump-
tions about the terms in which the man "calculates". Cf. p. 27.
Centripetal. The system of organisation of a group is said to be centri-
petal if it depends upon a single central authority or upon some form
of hierarchy. Cf. p. 99.
Clan. I am using this word to mean a unilateral patrilineal group. Among
the latmul there are between fifty and a hundred clans of which be-
tween ten and twenty are represented in any one village. In many cases
the clans are paired and trace descent from a pair of brothers, one clan
being called the "elder brother" of the other. Larger groups of
clans also occur. See Moiety.
Cognitive. Cf. Affective.
3o8 Glossary
Complementary. A relationship between two individuals (or between
two groups) is said to be chiefly complementary if most of the be-
haviour of the one individual is culturally regarded as of one sort (e.g.
assertive) while most of the behaviour of the other, when he replies, is
culturally regarded as of a sort complementary to this (e.g. submissive).
Cf. p. 176.
Configuration. Defined, p. 33.
Cyclothymia. A syndrome of characteristics of temperament described
by Kretschmer (^Physique and Character, 1925). This temperament is
recognisable {inter alia) by a tendency to periodic variation between
gaiety and sadness. It is believed to be associated with pyknic
physique. Cf. p. 160.
Developmental psychology. The study of the changes which occur in
the psychology of an individual as a result of growth or experience.
Diachronic. It is convenient to divide scientific anthropology into two
major disciplines, the diachronic, which is concerned with the pro-
cesses of cultural change, and the synchronic, which is concerned
with the working of cultural systems at a given period. Synchronic
anthropology ignores the historical origin of the details of culture.
Cf. p. 3.
Diagonal dualism. A way of thought which groups persons or objects
in pairs by regarding each member of the pair as the symmetrical
counterpart of the other (p. 239). At the end of this book it is pointed
out that "diagonal" is equivalent to "symmetrical" in the sense in
which the latter term is applied to relationships. Cf. p. 271.
Direct dualism. A way of thought which groups persons or objects in
pairs, regarding the members of each pair as mutually complementary
(p. 239). For the equivalence between "direct" and "complemen-
tary" cf. p. 271.
Discrimination. The opposite of Identification (q.v.).
Dynamic equilibrium. A state of aflfairs in a functional system, such
that, though no change is apparent, we are compelled to believe that
small changes are continually occurring and counteracting each
other. Cf. pp. 175 and 190.
Eidos. Cf. footnote on p. 25; and pp. 30 and 220.
Ethos. Cf. footnote on p. 2; and pp. 30, 32, 114, 119, 123 and 276.
External (or lateral) sanctions. I have used this term to mean those
sanctions which are imposed upon a member of a group by person^
outside that group. Cf. p. 98.
Formulation. I have used this word loosely as synonym for cultural
premise.
Function. Cf. p. 26 et seq.
Grade. The latmul system of initiatory groups is not easily described in
English and I have used the word "grade" somewhat unconvention-
ally. For a description of the system see p. 245.
Homicide. A man who has killed another. Among the latmul, the
successful killer of enemies is entitled to special ornaments, here
called "homicidal ornaments".
iai, father's mother, father's mother's brother's daughter, all of the
women of the same patrilineal clan as these. The same term (or
naisagut or tawonto) may be applied to their brothers. For marriage
between iai and ianan, cf. p. 88 et seq.
ianan, son's son (w.s.); father's sister's son's pon (b.s.); the reciprocal of
iai (q.v.).
iau, father's sister, real and classificatory.
Glossary ^09
Identification. Cf. explanation, p. 35.
Initiatory groups. Cf. diagram, p. 245.
Institution. Cf. criticism of this concept, p. 27.
Internal sanctions. I have used this term to mean only those sanctions
imposed upon a member of a group by some other member (often
an official) of the same group, and I have not used it in the psycho-
logical sense to refer to conscience, etc.
kaishe nampa, a collective term for the members of the patrilineal
group into which ego's daughter is married.
kaishe-ndo, child's spouse's father; kaishe-ragwa, child's spouse's mother.
These terms are also used between persons whose offspring might
be expected to marry, e.g. sister's son's wife may be called kaishe-
ragwa. The term kaishe is also used between partners who have ex-
changed ceremonial gifts of shell currency.
kamberail, an initiatory group, By ^ or Bx ^. Cf. p. 245.
kanggat, brother's child (w.s.) ; the reciprocal of iau.
kau, violence. Cf. p. 140.
hop, a general term for ancestral spirits which guard their descendants
and help them in war. It includes both mbivan and angk-au.
Ian, husband.
lando, sister's husband, sister's son's son, real or classificatory (m.s.).
This term may also include men who might be expected to marry
the speaker's sister, so that it is sometimes used instead of ianan.
Ian men to\ "husband thou indeed!". Cf. footnote, p. 82.
lanoa nampa, literally " husband people ", a collective term for members
of the patrilineal group into which the speaker's sister has married.
Cf. explanation on p. 93.
Lateral sanctions. Cf. External sanctions.
laua, sister's child, sister's husband's father (m.s.), and other relatives
classified with them. Cf. p. 94.
laua nyanggu, the patrilineal group which includes the speaker's classi-
ficatory laiias. Cf. p. 94.
laua-ianan, a synon^tn of laua nyanggu.
Leptorrhine. This term is loosely used to mean " having a narrow nose ".
Cf. p. 163.
Logic. Cf. footnote on p. 25, and p. 220.
mbapma, literally, a "line", especially a line of people side by side as
distinct from a file. The word is also applied to a group defined in
terms of alternating generations. In any patrilineal lineage there are
tvvo mbapma, one containing the members of ego's generation, his
grandfather's generation and his son's son's generation; the other
containing members of his father's generation and his son's generation.
mbora, mother's brother's wife, wives of all men classified as mother's
brothers.
mbuambo, mother's father, mother's mother, mother's brother's son,
mother's brother's son's wife, father's elder brother. Cf. p. 39 for
incorrect use of the term by a latmul.
mbuandi, a tree with brilliant orange-coloured fruit {Ervatamia
aurantiacd).
tnbwan, the spirit of an enemy who has been killed and buried under a
standing stone or ceremonial mound. Such spirits are regarded as
ancestors and are believed to help in warfare and in the increase of
population.
ntbtuatnggowi, ceremonial dolls, which represent clan ancestral spirits
associated with fertility. Cf. p. 233 and Pis. XXV and XXVII.
310 Glossary
mbwole, a small ceremonial house for the boys, especially for initiatory
grades Ax 5 and Ay 5.
mints hanggu, a mortuary ceremony. Cf. p. 47.
Moiety. latmul society is divided into two totemic groups or moieties
called nyowe (Sun) and nyame (Mother). It is also divided into cross-
cutting moieties for initiatory ceremonial (cf. p. 245). Membership
in all these groups is determined by patrilineal descent.
Motivation. Cf. the examination of the terms "cognitive" and "afTec-
tive" on p. 275.
m.s., man speaking; placed after the translation of a kinship term it means
that that term is used in the given sense only by a man.
mwai, mythological beings analogous to wagan (slit gongs) and repre-
sented by masks with big noses. Cf. p. 233 and PI. XXVIII B.
na, father's sister's child (m.s.); daughter's child (b.s.); reciprocal of
mbuambo.
naisagut, wife's father, wife's mother, wife's brother's wife, wife's mother's
brother. Cf. p. 91.
nambu luail, nambu = head, wail = crocodile. The term wail is used
for any initiatory group (moiety, quadrant or generation group). The
term "head of the crocodile" is applied to the senior member of a
generation group in the initiatory system. Cf. p. 245.
nampa, people.
nasa, husband's sister's child; the reciprocal of mbora.
naven, a set of ceremonial customs of the latmul used to illustrate the
theoretical analyses in this book.
ndjambwia, spikes set in the ground or magical devices designed to
prevent trespass. Cf. p. 46.
ndo, man.
nemwan, big, great.
nggambut, a post set up beside the grave of a woman. Cf. p. 55.
nggambwa, vengeance; a fury who tears dead bodies to pieces. Cf.
P- 57-
nggelakaviui, a tuberous epiphyte {Myrmecodia sp.). Cf. p. 59.
ngglambi. Cf. p. 54 et seq. and p. 140.
nggtuail, father's father, father's father's sister, son's son, son's daughter.
This term is also applied to the totemic ancestors of a clan.
nggivatl-warangka. Cf. p. 39.
nggiuat keranda. When a girl goes from her parents' house in marriage,
her relatives decorate her. The ornaments constitute the nggwat
keranda, a ceremonial present to the husband. Cf. p. 105.
nian, son, daughter, and (w.s.) father's sister's child. This is the ordinary
word for children (pi. nyanggu) and is also used as a synonym for
nampa, people.
nondu, daughter's husband, father's sister's husband, and husband's
sister's husband ; reciprocal of naisagut.
nyai' , father, father's classificatory brother. Cf. mbuambo and tshambwi
nyai'. This term is applied to father's sister in naven.
nyame, mother, mother's sister (real and classificatory); any woman of
mother's clan; son's wife (m.s.). This term is applied to mother's
brother in naven.
nyamun, elder sibling of the same sex, brother (w.s.); father's father.
This term is also used between clans (q.v.) and initiatory grades
(cf. p. 245), and is applied to elder brother's wife in naven.
nyanggai, sister, real or classificatory (m.s.); father's father's sister (m.s.) ;
son's daughter (m.s.).
Glossary ^n
Peripheral. The system of organisation of a group is said to be peripheral
if it depends for its sanctions not upon a higher authority but upon
the behaviour of other equivalent groups. Cf. p. 99.
Potlatch. Competitive ceremonial giving, characteristic of the Indians
of the North-west Coast of British Columbia.
Pragmatic function. For criticism and subdivision of this concept,
cf. p. 30 et seq.; also pp. 261 and 264.
Premise. Definition, p. 24.
pwivu. Cf. p. 46.
rite de passage, a ceremony accompanying or effecting a change of status.
Schismogenesis. Definition, p. 175.
Schizothymia. A syndrome of characteristics of temperament described
by Kretschmer. (Cf. Cyclothymia.) Schizothymia is characterised
{inter alia) by sudden and irregular changes from emotional anaes-
thesia to emotional hyperaesthesia.
Segmentation. A functional system may be said to be segmented when
it consists of two or more parts, each of which is in some degree a repeat
of the others, e.g. a system of clans or an earthworm.
Siblings. Persons of either sex, who have one or both parents in common.
Social psychology. Cf. tentative definition, p. 175.
Social structure. For the distinction bet\veen this concept and that of
cultural structure, cf. p. 25.
Sociology. This word I have used in a specially restricted sense. Cf.
pp. 30 and 34.
Standardisation. The process by which the individuals in a community
are moulded to resemble each other in their behaviour. Cf. pp. 33,
34. 113, 255-
Structure. Cf. definitions of cultural and social structure, p. 25.
Symmetrical. A relationship between two individuals (or two groups)
is said to be symmetrical if each responds to the other with the same
kind of behaviour, e.g. if each meets the other with assertiveness.
Synchronic. Cf. Diachronic, and p. 256.
Syndrome. Used in this book as a collective term for the characteristics
of a functional system. This term is used in medicine for the additional
characteristics which a body acquires in a diseased condition.
tagail, a small ceremonial house of the boys, especially for members of
Bx^ and By 4. Cf. p. 136.
tagwa, woman, wife. This term is also applied jocularly to father's mother.
tambinyen, a partner in the opposite moiety, who is of the same genera-
tion group as the speaker, e.g. members of initiatory group Ax 3 are
tambinyanggu of Ay 3.
tambointsha, feather tassels, a badge of homicide. Cf. pp. 46 and 72.
tavet, a rhythm on the slit gong used to summon a man or group,
tatoonfu, literally "wife-man", wife's brother, father's mother's brother,
real or classificatory (m.s.). This term is the reciprocal of lando and
is extended to include male iai.
timbut, a species of small lemon used in purificatory rituals, in magic,
and as a purge. Cf. p. 155.
towa-naisagut , a collective term for the members of the wife's clan.
Cf. p. 93-
Transvesticism. The wearing of women's clothes by men, or of men's
clothes by women.
tshaishi, wife of elder brother, real or classificatory (m.s.).
tshambivi nyai', own father's younger brother.
tshat kundi, the act of addressing the sister's child as an ancestor. Cf . p. 44.
312 Glossary
tshitnangka, a species of fish ; an act in initiation in which an initiator
dances like a fish.
tshimbtuora, a fringe of hanging strips of pahn leaf used as a screen in
initiation ceremonies. This word is used by wagan (shamans) for
water. Cf. p. 47.
tshivla, long.
tshuambo, younger sibling of the same sex; son's son (m.s.); husband's
younger brother.
Tshuosh, a tribe who live immediately north of the latmul.
tshugukepma, ceremonies in which the sister's children dance as the
ancestors of their mother's brother's clan. Cf. p. 10.
tshumbuk, a pointing stick used in sorcery. This object is personified.
Cf. pp. 60 and 72.
wagan. This term is used among the Central latmul in two senses: (a) for
jA certain clan ancestral spirits who "possess" shamans and speak
through their mouths ; (6) for the sacred slit gongs used in initiation.
Among the Eastern latmul the term is used only for the gongs and
a separate term {lemwail) is used for the spirits. The Central latmul,
however, regard the gongs and spirits as fundamentally the same.
Cf. pp. 55, 233 and 236.
waingga, purchase. This term is also applied to the acquisition of a
wife. Cf. p. 79.
tvarangka, father's father's father.
tvau, mother's brother, son's wife's brother, and other relatives classified
with them. Cf. p. 94.
wau-mbuambo, a collective term for the members of the clan of own or
classificatory mother.
4 ivindjimbu, spirits which live in trees. Cf. p. 65.
w.s. Woman speaking; placed after the translation of a kinship term, it
means that that term is used in that sense only by a woman.
yigen, beautiful, gentle, quiet. Cf. p. 141.
yigen kundi, literally " quiet singing ". A mortuary ceremony performed
by women. Cf. p. 156.
yivut. Cf. footnote, p. 129. \ -
4
Xj^^
^^S-
y'
V
PLATES
The dancing ground of Palimbai in the flooded season. The wompunau or dancing
ground is a long avenue down the centre of the viHage. In it stand the men's
ceremonial houses, of which one is visible in the picture. The sides of the wom-
punau are lined with mounds on which coconut palms, crotons, bananas, etc. are
planted to raise them above the flood level. Dwelling houses lie on both sides of
the wompunau, hidden by this vegetation. The photograph was taken from the
upper storey of another ceremonial house. In the immediate foreground are the
tops of Dracaena plants growing on the wak or ceremonial mound belonging to
this house. Behind these a woman is paddling a small canoe across the wompunau.
In front and to the left of the far ceremonial house, its wak is xisible.
PLATE I
A. \uven in Paliinbai for a sister's son who had made a large new canoe. The
two youno; men are ivaiis ( mother's brothers ) and are dressed as old women, with
tattered raineapes and bedraggled skirts. They hobble about the \illage support-
ing themselves by means of short paddles, such as are used by women in canoeing.
(Men use paddles 10 feet to 12 feet long and stand while paddling. ) The nearer
of the two trans carries a white fowl in his hand to be presented to his laua.
H. Mavcu in Palniibai: tlic two tcaus searching for their laua
PLATE II
A. Navcn in Falimbai. The icaiis iiie on the way to tlic canoe
made by their laua. Suspended from the nose of the further
wau is seen an "ornament" made of old sago.
B. Nuven in Pahi
ihai : one o:
f the waus
PLATE III
A. Naven in Palimbai. One oi the wans stumbling because of his pretended feeble-
ness. The children crowd round laughing.
fel.'
B. Naven in l-'alinibai. C^ne ot the nans has readied the canoe and tails uito it witli
his legs widespread. The other is arri\ ing miserably on all fours.
PLATE I\'
A. A small naven in Kankanamun.
The laua luinipa (sister's children) had
assisted in building operations. When
the work was done, one of the waui
dressed himself as a woman and is here
seen dancing with a head taken from
the enemy by one of his /«»«s. The
head, a portrait modelled in clay on an
enemy's skull, is an old one.
B. Initiation in Kankana-
mun. The novice is sepa-
rated from his mother, and
his wau ceremonially takes
o\'er her function and is
called mjume ("mother").
The tcdii is seen carrying
a novice pick-a-back as a
real mother might carry her
small child.
PLATE V
A. Women's noven in Kankananiun. A !)()> luis made a new canoe, and the photo-
i^rapli shows his "mothers", father's sisters, and elder brothers' wives celebrating
this achie\ement. This was only a small naven and the transvesticism is of a
makeshift \ariety. The two "mothers" have discarded their skirts and sit in the
canoe using women's paddles, i.e. they are "naked" and not transvestite. The
fatliors' sisters and elder brothers' wives, although the>- are using women's
paddles, stand to paddle in the manner of men.
B. The same navcn. The pliotograph shows the war-like gestures of the
transvestite women. One of tlicm is wearing a pubic apron made of lea\'es,
a makeshift cop\ ot tliat worn by men.
PLATE \T
A. Men's ceremonial liouse in Kan-
kanaiiinn. Tliis was the finest eere-
nionial house in any of the river
N'illatjes. The sliinyles of the sauo-
leaf tliuteh are alternately yellow
and brown, gi\ing a deeoratixe pat-
tern. In the gable front f.nir little
windows are visible, with an en-
emy's skull in eaeh. Above these
windows there is a grotesque face
of which only the teeth and cres-
cent-shaped nose ornaments are \ is-
ible in the photograph. In front of
the building is the wak or cerenu)-
nial mound on which dead enem>
bodies and captives are laid. At
tlie foot of the ladder is a little tree
of the species called wani, a totemic
ancestor of the clan which owns
this end of the ceremonial house.
The building is 130 feet in length.
li. A man debating. The man was
posed for this photograph. He
stands beside the elaborately car\ ed
debating stool, and holds in his
hand the three bundles of leaves
with which he beats the stool dur-
ing his speech. Photograph taken
in a ceremonial house in Malingai
village.
PLATE \ 11
A. The coiiKi (il a LxiLiiiDiiial lioii^t- in ralinihai. The photo.yraph shows one of
the posts whieh support the floor. The top of the post is earved to represent a
iciudjimlju or wood spirit.
u. Uaisinjf the ridge pole for one of the ceremonial houses in Palimbai. A scaf-
folding has been constructed around the supporting post. The horizontal poles
in this scaffolding are not tied do\\'n, so that they can be remo\ed to allow the
ridge pole to be raised. The horizontals are replaced under it at each step. The
ridge pole is raised by men beside it on the scaffolding, and by others below who
push on a cross-piece tied to a bamboo shaft. The shaft is attached to the ridge
pole at the top by a loop of cane. Such a work is the duty of all the affinal relati\es
of the clan whose ceremonial house is being constructed. The work would be
accompanied b\' beating of gongs and pla\ing of flutes.
PLATE \ III
A. A pair of slit jiongs in Mindinibit. Vhe photoj^raph shows only
the elaborately carved ends of the gonj^s. The carving on both these
specimens represents the heads of prawns with their rostra. The
interest in noses gives a special importance to such totemic ancestors
as possess conspicuous noses, e.g. sago weevils, prawns, etc. On the
nearer gong, at the base of the rostrum, a frog is represented with its
hind leg extended in a long wavy line.
a. Initiation in Kankanamun. The initiators are waiting in two lines armed with sticks.
The no\ice will enter through the leaf screen at the back of the picture and will nm the
gauntlet of the initiators. Actually, the no\'ice's father will come with him and will
protect the back of the noxice, allow ing blows to fall on his own back. This beating of
the father is analogous to a beating of the novice, since both are of the same initiatory
moietv.
PLATE IX
Initiation in Malinj^ai. The novice is lying prone on an inverted canoe claspii
his mother's brother who acts as a comforter and "mother". An initiator of tl
opposite moiety to the no\ice is cutting the latter 's back with a small bamb(
blade. In the foreground is a bowl of water with swabs of fibre to wipe away tl
blood. The white and black paint on the faces of the two men is a privilege
those who have killed a man, and is worn on all ceremonial occasions. The bai
of opossmn fur worn b\' the initiator is also a badge of homicide.
PL.VTE X
^^■'
A. Initiation in Kankananiun. The novice is sitting in the lap of Ins mother's brother
while initiators cut crescents above the novice's nipples. The initiator with bird-of-
paradise feathers in his hair is doing the cutting, while others observe his craftsman-
ship and hold the novice.
B. The same initiation: the cuttiTig of tlie uomcc s iiatk. Otiicr initiators watcli the
operation.
PLATE XI
Initiation in Koniindimhit \illatie: Inillying the novice. For ai:)Out a week after his
back lias been cnt, the novice is subjected every morning to a series of bullying
ceremonials. He is made to squat like a woman while masked initiators maltreat
him in various ways. The particular incident shown here is a recent innovation.
The mask worn by the initiator was made by people in the mountains at the head
of the Yiuit River. This mask somehow— probably as loot— came into the possession
of L.ower Sepik natives. A party of returned latmul labourers stole the mask on
their way to Komindimbit, and it was adopted into the local initiation ceremonies;
it was referred to as tumhiuni ( the ordinary pidgin word for a mask ) . The tumhuan
divines for theft. The cow's bone ( acquired on some plantation ) which is on the
ground in front of the figure's knees is held up on a string in front of the novice's
face. The tumhuan then says, addressing the novice in the feminine second person
singular: "Are you a child that steals calico?" He then moves his arm causing the
bone to swing, which indicates an affirmative answer to the divination; and he slaps
the no\ice. The same question is asked about yams, bananas, tobacco, etc., etc.
In each case an affirmative answer is olitained and the no\ice is slapped.
PLATE XII
Initiation in Komindimbit: an
initiator expressing scorn for a nov-
ice by rubbing liis buttocks on the
latter's head. This gesture is pre-
sumabh- quite distinct from the
gesture of the icaii, who shames
himself b>- rubbing his buttocks on
his laud's leg. ( The dog in this pic-
ture belonged to the ethnographer
and was not nati\e. )
B. Initiation in Komindimbit: a
no\ice eating a meal. He is made
to wash before he eats, and even
then must not touch his food with
his hands, but must pick it up awk-
wardh- and miserably with a pair of
bamboo tongs or a folded leaf. This
was tile youngest of the novices in-
itiated in this ceremony. The parts
of his bod\- which ha\e been cut are
wet with oil and the remainder of
Ills body is smeared with cla>-.
PLATE XIII
Initiation in Koniineliniljit. Evci) cla> tor noininalK' five days bnt actually for a
rather longer period, the novices were bullied during the morning and allowed to
rest in the afternoon. This photograph shows them resting, sitting or lying on mats
on the ground in the ceremonial house. The initiators sit on raised platforms above
the novices whom they are initiating. Down the centre of the ceremonial house the
slit gongs are arranged in pairs, and initiators of the opposite moiety are sitting on
the platforms on the far side of the house. Below them on the groiuid, hidden by
the gongs, are the novices whom they are initiating. A pair of flutes is lying on the
central gongs, and in front of the nearest house-post there is a pair of water drums.
Feather headdresses, etc., belonging to the initiators are suspended on hooks from
the beams.
PLATE XIV
A. Dwelling house in Kankanannm village
B. Interior of house in Kankanamun \ illage. The foreground is filled by mosciuito
bags made of plaited rushes. Usually, a husband has his own bag and each wife
has a bag. A separate larger bag, e.g. that on the extreme right of the photograph,
is pro\ided for the children, who sleep together. Suckling children sleep with their
mothers. Suspended in the house are a number of baskets and patterned string
bags imported from the Tshuosh people. The camera was set up on the floor in the
clear space at the front end of the house, and there is a corresponding clear space
beyond the mosquito bags at the far end.
PLATE X\^
A. WoiiK'ii of Mindinibit goin<4 aloiiu tlic lianks of the Scpik in small canoes to their
fish traps
H. Women of Pahmbai fishing in a lake. The circular net is
held by two women who stand in the prows of two small canoes.
Each canoe is propelled by a woman sittin,<j in the stern. Such
a net, called cliiira, is used to catcli the fish which hide under
small islands of floating grass. The net is pushed under the edge
of the island and then raised. A small patch of grass is some-
times simpl\- lifted up in the net and tlien thrown out.
PLATE \\l
A. \\'()inan of Miiulimhit \il-
lage with child, the hitter
h e a \- i 1 y ornamented with
shells, as is usual even in
everyday life. Both woman
and child are rather shy of
the ethnographer.
H. Woman ot Kankanamun
\illage with child. She did
not know that she was being
photographed.
PLATE X\'II
?T'r*
A. An audience «f women and children \vatcliin<j; a spectacle staged l:»y men. Tlie
voung women and especially the children are hea\ily ornamented for the occasion.
The spectacle in this case was a xvcigcm dance.
H. Old men of age grades By 2 and B.v 2 dancing as tvagan. Wagan are spiritual
beings mythologically connected with water. Their voice is represented by the
beating of slit gongs, a secret of late initiation. The men impersonating tcagan are
here seen prodigiously decorated, dancing with a djuni (fish net, cf. Plate X\T b)
in which the xcagan were raised from water in their mythological origin. The net
contains an imitation fish made of wood which is tied to the bottom of it.
PLATE X\ III
A. Woman painted and ornamented for tslnigii-
kepma procession, a public ceremonial in which
the women march in a column up and down the
dancing ground. They celebrate the ancestors of
their icau-mjame-numpu (maternal clan). For
such an occasion the women wear, in addition to
their best skirts and other ornaments, a number
of decorations which are usually only worn by
men. In the photograph the headdress of casso-
wary skin and the bobbing fans set with white
fowls' feathers, are both of them normally worn
by men, as also are tlie shell rings which the
woman is wearing on her arm. The paint on her
face is yellow ochre and not the white paint worn
by homicides.
B. In front of the tslui^u-kcpma procession (cf.
.supra ) a group of women perform a dance rep-
resenting an incident in the mythology of the
maternal clan. The figure in the left front of
the pictiue is a woman wearing a faceless mask
shaped to represent the Aibom mountain. Part
of a second mask representing the Tchambuli
mountain is visible on the extreme right. These
two mountains are a conspicuous feature of the
Sepik fens. All pieces of land are m\ thologically
supposed to be floating islands, and here we see
a woman steering the floating mountain with a
long paddle such as is normally used by men.
Her gesture, too, is reminiscent of male pride.
PLATE XIX
A. A ureat man oF Falimhai had died the niglit before and \\ as buried in the earl\- morning. Later
in the morning, tlie figure here shown was constructed to represent him. The head of the figure
\\ as an unripe coconut and the body was made of bundles of pahii leaves. Spears were set up
against it with their points stuck in the figure to mark the places where he had been wounded in
fight, and other spears were stuck into the ground beside the figure for those which he had
dodged. A series of \ertical spears of which only two are \isible in the photograph was set up
in front of the figure according to his achievements. The figure itself was ornamented with shells,
etc. Si.x sago baskets were suspended from its right shoulder to represent his si.\ wi\'es, a string
bag was suspended on the left shoulder representing his skill in magic. A number of sprigs of
ginger in its headdress represented persons whom he had invited to the \illage so that otlier
people could kill them. In the right hand of the figure (not visible in the photograph) was a
dr\- lump of sago— since it was said that in his lifetime he had once killed a bird b>- throwing a
lump of sago at it. The branch of timhut (lemon) set in the ground beside the figure is symbolic
of his knowledge of m\ thology.
B. The figure was set up l)y the initiatory moiety of which the dead man had been a member.
Later, members of the other moiety came and took away the \ arious symbols one by one. In this
photograph a man is seen taking away one of the spears denoting a wound, claiming that he has
liad a similar wound. On the ground by the furtlier foot of the figure is a broom and a pair of the
boards used for picking up rubbish. These objects are symbolic of tlie work whicli the dead
man had done in cleaning the ceremonial house during his lifetime.
PLATE X.X
A. The row of spears in front of the mortuary figure shown in Plate XX. Tlie figure
is seen in the haekground. In front of it there are (a) eight spears for men lie had
killed, ( b ) ten spears for men killed by other members of the eanoe on whieh he
had ser\ed in the prow, (c) ten spears for wild pigs whieh he had killed: these
are marked with pieces of banana leaf, and ( (/ ) ( not \'isible in the photograph )
si^ears for the eroeodiles and flying foxes whieh he liad killed.
B. Figures in mintshonggu mor-
tuary ceremony, Palimbai. The
skulls of the dead ha\'e l^een
cleaned and portraits modelled
upon them in clay. These are
set up as the heads of the figures,
which stand on a platform sus-
pended from the roof of the
house. Both the figures and
platform are prodigiously orna-
mented. In front of the two fig-
ures is a portrait skull of the man
whose mortuary figure is shown
in Plate XX. The ceremony
takes place at night, when the
ancestral songs of the deceased
are sung and men concealed
under the platform play on the
clan flutes.
PLATE XXI
Man of Mindiinbit \ illa>j:r ol llie proud, excitable, dramatisinj^ personality which is
preferred in men. Tliis man was indeed considered by the latmid to be somewhat
too unstable. He was an enthusiastic, but confvised and unreliable, informant. His
posture shows the male reaction to the camera ( cf . Plate XXVI ) . His hand grasps
his lime stick, ready to scrape it on the mouth of the lime box, to produce a loud
noise expressive of pride or an<j;er.
PLATE XXII
A. Mali-kiiKljiu oi Kiuikananiuii, whose personal-
ity is described in the chapter on "Preferred
Types"
B. A man of Tanil)unum village
PLATE XXII I
A. Nati\c of Mindimbit. A
man of the distreet type and
slijihth* pyknic physitiue: a ver\
intellijient, humorous man and
one of my most knowledgeable
informants, to whom much eso-
ti'ric knowledge had been en-
trusted because his elders had
no fear of his declaiming their
secrets in a sudden fit of temper.
The pendants on his lime stick
are a tallv of tlie men he has
killed.
li. 'rsliiiiihat, a uatixc of Kanka-
nainun, a product of culture con-
tact
ftiMTiim
PLATE XXIV
11a poi trait skull at a woman. Slir was a native of Kankanammi who died some
three generations ago. Her skidl was eleaned, exhibited at mortuary eeremonies, and
finally buried as is customary. But as she was considered to be strikingly beautiful,
the men later dug up her portrait ( and probably substituted another skull in the
grave ) . Since then, her skull has been used in mhwatnggowi ceremonies ( cf. Plate
XXVII ) . Her long nose was especially admired. In the photograph, the breast is a
half coconut shell.
PLATE XX\'
A and H. Two women
of Kankananiun sliow-
injf niodesh' before the
c a m era ( cf . Plate
XXII )
platp: x.w'i
A mbwatnggowi figure, Kankanamiin. A portrait skull of a dead man, chosen for
his good looks, is set up as the head of a doll and prodigiously ornamented. The
white object above the head is a European plate which, being brighter and whiter,
is used instead of a Melo shell. The shell ornament is hiuig as an extension to the
nose. The ceremony is an initiatory secret, but is also said by a few men to promote
the prosperity and fertility of the xillage. The dance takes place at night behind a
screen of totemic banana leaves. The men lift up the dolls by the poles on which
they are constructed, raising them high abo\e the screen so that the women, stand-
ing as an audience, see the figures as Jack-in-the-boxes. Each clan has its
mbwatnggowi, and the principal interest of the natives in the ceremony lies in its
spectacular nature and its esoteric origins rather than in its eflect upon fertility.
PLATE XXVII
A. Figures of wa^aii with enormous noses, in Jentschan. This photo-
graph shows the setting of the dancing ground for icagan dances. In
tlie liackground to the right, the front of the ceremonial house is visible.
In front of this is a screen of banana leaves through which the dancers
impersonating wagan will come. The two figures in front of this screen
have been hastily and secretly made ready and ornamented during the
two days preceding the dance. They were set up in the dance ground
in the small hours of the morning, so that the women woke to find the
dancing ground prepared. Each figure consists of a post set at a high
angle in the ground; to the top of this post a face is attached. The face
is an enormous loop— the nose— near the base of which two half coconut
shells are fixed to represent eyes. From the junction of the face and post
a sago frond is suspended, and slopes forward on to the ground. The
blades of the leaflets of this frond have been remo\ed, and on to the
mid-ribs of the leaflets large orange-coloured fniits ha\e been threaded.
This sago leaf is described as the ioli ( raincape ) of the figure. The
post itself is entirely co\'ered with totemic ancestral plants, one of the
figures being decorated with ancestors of the Mother moiety, the other
with ancestors of the Sun moiety. In front of the two figures, a rectangle
is enclosed with white palm fronds. This is the "lake" in which the
tcagdu w ill dance.
B. The head of a mwai mask, Kankanamun. Mwai are extinguisher-
shaped masks, and the ceremony in which they perform is held in the
dancing groimd of the ta<iuil ( jimior ceremonial house ) . The ceremony
is a junior analogue of the icagan dances. The photograph shows the
carved face detached from the extinguisher-shaped framework. The
nose is extended into a long appendage ending in a snake's head. The
face is made of wood, to which shells are attached by means of cfay
worked with lime and oil. The face is hanging in a dwelling house witli
\ari()us shell ornaments in the background.
'v.y'-
PLATE XXVIII
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